Lana is sitting behind a desk at the back of the room.
She glances up from the computer and pulls on a smile.
“Robin, I’m glad you could come. Take a seat, I’ll be right over.”
Dr. Clarke gestures to one of the sofas. There are two across from each other with a coffee table in between. It’s a strange set up for an office, I think. I only know what I’ve seen in movies and TV shows, so it’s hard to tell.
I sit down on the sofa closest to the door.
Lana comes out from behind her desk, as Dr. Clarke moves over to where she is.
They talk quietly, and I get the impression they have a slightly closer relationship than I realized.
“I’ll be outside when you’re done talking,” he tells us, nodding at Lana as he leaves the room.
She watches him go with a soft smile on her lips.
Owen follows Dr. Clarke out of the room, after a second’s pause.
Then, the door closes and we’re alone.
When Lana sits down across from me, I notice something has changed since I last talked to her.
She has mating marks on her throat. It’s hard to tell how many, but there are at least two, one on either side.
“Are you mated to Dr. Clarke?” I blurt, unable to stop the question from leaving my lips.
She laughs. “Is it that obvious?”
“You two just have kind of a … vibe, or something,” I murmur.
She nods. “It’s new, but we’re together. We try to keep things professional at work.”
Of course she does. They didn’t do anything that wasn’t.
I wish I hadn’t mentioned it, but it’s too late to take it back now.
She clears her throat. “I was hoping we could talk about how you’re feeling now that you’re starting to get healthier."
Right. That.
I don’t know where this conversation is going, so I decide I might as well be honest.
"I’m feeling restless,” I admit, tugging at the sleeves of my shirt. “I’m used to being kept busy. I don’t like lying around doing nothing all day.”
“Okay. If Ez … I mean, if Dr. Clarke thinks you’re up to it …”
“He mentioned letting me go for a walk in the gardens. I think that would be a good start.”
And if we could leave it at that, I’d be ecstatic.
Unfortunately, Lana looks like she has more to say.
“That does sound like a great first step,” she starts, clearly hesitant before she adds, “But I’d like to get some idea of what’s next for you, so we can start making preparations. Is there something you’d like to study? Do you have any skills you might want to develop, or begin to learn?”
“Study?” I squeak out, starting to panic.
She runs a school, and she’s asking questions as if I’m a potential student.
