At first, I contemplated over whether or not I should write an entry from Casimir’s mother. Ultimately, I had decided against it, out of the fear of making him sad. After all, what if he really believed that it was his mother writing to him?
So I decided to compose a letter from myself. I reckoned it would be a nice surprise for him, as was seeing the cranes hanging up for me. I put the journal back where I had found it, and I walked out of the large room.

Later that day, Ms. Ledezma received a phone call from the hospital. It was reported that Casimir was doing fine, and he would be home in three days at the most. He couldn’t talk to me, because they said that he ought to save his voice.
I could go and visit him tomorrow, because it would really cheer him up. He had probably expressed this to the hospital, despite the fact that he could hardly breathe.