57
- 57 -
The door opened, and Don stepped in, brow lined and fists clenched. “Now tell me!”
“Not with the door open.”
Rodin wanted to smile. This was the most fun he’d had in…in as long as he could remember. He felt the urge to laugh. So ridiculous, that with such a short time left to live he should start enjoying himself. After all those years of suffering, all because of Authority—all because of the man who stood at the foot of this bed, breathing loudly, shirt dark under his arms—after all those years, he finally felt something like life within.
Don slammed his hand on the screen, left a damp smear. The door slid shut.
“What the hell is happening? It needs to stop!”
Rodin shrugged. “I’m dying. What do I care?”
“I’ve already told you, we can change that. We help you live,
