Don’t Let Him Know I’m Still Alive
I brought Alan, because I had said I would.
She was sitting under the window in a folding chair with a paperback she wasn’t reading. Jeans. A gray cardigan with a pill on the elbow. No jewelry except a small watch. She stood up when we came in, which I hadn’t expected, and put out her hand, which I hadn’t expected either.
I did not take it. She put it down without any change in her face. I think she’d budgeted for that.
“Dr. Hayes,” she said. “How is she?”
“You don’t get to ask that.”
“All right.”