“So I’m not going to do any of that. Baz is.”
42
AGATHA
I’m awake. I’m not sure if I’m still in my room.
I think I’m waiting for Braden.
He came yesterday while I was still eating breakfast, and he looked so happy to see me that I found myself smiling back at him. For a moment I felt so ridiculous. Why was I worrying? I’d been given my own room at a luxury retreat. I was being courted by the sort of guy who shows up inVanity Fair,under “Vanities.”
He sat on my bed. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I said. “What’s on the docket today? I think Ginger and I were supposed to meditate. Or possibly mediate… I’m game for either.”
“Agatha…” Braden said. “I want to reallytalkto you.”
“Haven’t we been really talking? It’s felt like so much talking.”
“I want to be honest,” he said.
I heroically resisted rolling my eyes. “Of course.”
“Agatha, you’re a perfect specimen.”
“Braden, I know you’re in health care, but girls don’t like being called a ‘specimen.’”
He laughed. “You’re so funny.”
“I thought we were being honest.”
He laughed louder and took my hand. “Agatha… I know what you are.” He was still smiling at me.
Not a single muscle moved in my face. “I told you everything I am.”
“Come on.” His voice was gentle. “You can drop the artifice. There are no secrets between us.”
There bloody wellare.
I waited for him to elaborate.
“I saw you,” he said. “In the library. I saw you light your cigarette.”
“I thought you’d forgiven me for smoking in the house.”
His smile faltered for the first time. “Agatha,come on.I thought we could really do this—that we could justhavethis conversation.”
I smiled exactly the way my mother does when she doesn’t want to hear something. It’s the look she gave me when I said I didn’t want to go to Watford, and when I asked for another horse.
“Agatha.”
“Braden…”
“I know you have the mutation.”
“The mutation?”
“It must be a mutation,” he said. “We’ve ruled out anything communicable.”
