“We need to have a serious conversation,” I began, and Raymond set down his pen.

“Conversations that start in that tone,” he observed dryly, “rarely bring good news.” I told him plainly that he was recovering well now, that he no longer needed me the way he had, that Theodore and I should begin looking for a place of our own.

He shook his head at once.

“No.

Absolutely not.” And before I could protest, he added, “And for a start, stop calling me Mr.

Raymond, after three weeks of watching me pretend to be a helpless corpse.”