Font Size:
Before I shut it down.
Before I—
Stop.
“You’re making that very difficult,” I say quietly.
Her breath catches.
Just slightly.
Enough.
Her hand slides to my side—
Careful.
Checking the bandage.
But it lingers.
Just a second too long.
“You’re reopening it,” she murmurs.
“I’ve had—”
“Don’t.”
I almost smile.
Almost.
“You worry too much,” I say.
“I don’t worry enough,” she counters.
“That’s not true.”
“No,” she says softly. “It’s just new.”
That—
That’s new.
She steps back slightly.
Just enough to think.
Never enough to fully leave.
“Ford,” I say. “You’ve crossed paths with him.”
Not a question.
Her expression shifts.
And this time—
