Whatever the reasoning, he was glad that Alara would be able to get something to eat.
He squeezed his eyes tight shut. He didn't want to think about her not having enough to eat. What Zia had said just now…
No. He had to tuck that thought away for now. He'd examine it later, when he was alone.
The first emotions that had hit him as he heard Zia talk were pity and anger. Neither of them were healthy, and Alara didn't need to even know he'd felt them. She didn't need his pity. And his anger wasn't at her—it was at a life that put people in circumstances like that. And at her family, whoever they were, that she hadn't been able to turn to them.
He clenched his jaw. Her family. And whoever should have been Zia's, too.
He turned on his heel to go find his dad. He'd promised he'd report back after Alara's appointment.
He knocked on the study door before going in.
"You've been a while. How did it go? What did Henry say? Is she all right? Is it anything—"
The slight tremor in his voice and his white knuckles on the arm of his chair hit Reaves hard. He knew his dad cared about Alara and Zia, but…
"She's gonna be all right." He went with the most important fact first.
Some of the tension left his dad's shoulders. "Well, that's good news. But what's the root of it?" He sat up a little straighter. "Are you just breaking something to me gently?"
"No, Dad." Reaves came in and took a seat across the desk from him. "It's nothing as bad as we feared. She's anemic. Iron deficiency. And B12 deficiency. Henry talked about undernutrition."
His dad frowned. "That doesn't sound bad. From the look of her, I'd thought it would be something much more…" He shook his head. "Not that I'm making light of it. I'm relieved. Of course I am. But is he sure?"
Reaves smiled. "You're really gonna question Henry's assessment? A man you've known for probably longer than I've been alive? And who you trust with your health and mine?"
His dad gave him a shame-faced smile. "I want to be sure, that's all. It seems such a simple solution. Although—hang on a moment. Whatisthe solution? Diet, I would imagine. And…" He nodded to himself. "I'll have to have a word with Faye."
"Slow down, Dad. Of course we'll talk to Faye. Although she knows better than either of us about nutrition."
"True. True."
"Alara has to go in for iron infusions."
"What does that mean? Infusion? Isn't that…" He frowned. "It sounds serious."
"It's okay, Dad. It's not that serious. We have to go back into Henry's office, and the nurse will do the infusions. Apparently Alara has to sit there for about half an hour to forty-five minutes. That's all. And for the B12, they'll give her injections." He frowned. "She said intramuscular injections. That sounds scary, do you know what it means?"
His dad shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea. But we can look it up, can't we?" He turned back to his computer screen, tapped away at the keyboard, and then read aloud. "An intramuscular injection delivers medication directly into a muscle, where the rich blood supply allows it to be absorbed steadily into the bloodstream." He nodded. "That doesn't sound too bad. It is commonly used for vitamin B12, which isn't well absorbed through the stomach. The injection is usually given in the upper arm, thigh, or…" He cleared his throat before muttering, "buttock," and hurrying on. "It takes only a few seconds, and most people experience nothing worse than brief soreness at the site."
He looked up. "All right. So now we know what we're dealing with. She must be relieved."
Reaves leaned back in the chair.
"She's not?"
"I think…" He glanced over his shoulder toward the door. "I'm not sure that I should tell you this. I don't believe Alara would ever have told me herself. It's something that Zia let slip."
"Then perhaps you shouldn't."
"You're right. I probably shouldn't. But I'm going to anyway. Because I think, over the next few weeks, you're gonna need to understand it in order to be able to help her."
"In that case, go ahead."
"I told you Henry talked about undernourishment. Well—from what Zia said—there was a time, before they came to Napa, when they didn't have enough food."
His dad turned to stare out the window and murmured, "That breaks my heart."
