“I understand,” Adrian replied.
“Do you?” Dr. Walsh asked. “Because men like you often confuse control with care.”
There was a pause.
Then Adrian said, “That is a fair criticism.”
I almost smiled in the dark.
Dr. Walsh continued, “She has been controlled enough. Let her make decisions. But make sure she understands the cost of making them while her body is trying to heal.”
“I will.”
Footsteps moved away.
A moment later, Adrian entered quietly. He stopped when he saw my eyes open.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.”
He came to the bedside. “How are you feeling?”
“Like everyone keeps asking me that because the real answer would be inconvenient.”
His mouth twitched. “Your mother used to answer questions like that.”
“Did she?”
“All the time.”
I studied him in the dim light. “Tell me something true about her.”
He sat down.
For a while, he said nothing. Then he looked at the window, where the reflection of the room floated over the darkness.
