"I don't like this, Alyosha. I don't like this one bit. I seriously have a bad feeling about all of this."
I can imagine Dad chewing on his nails anxiously as he says this.
I'm currently back in my bedroom with my patient sleeping on my bed. I'm keeping an eye on him while my dad keeps an eye on me. Whatever for, I don't freaking know.
But if that's the only way I can keep the boy here in my room so I can regularly check up on him and his condition, then my dad is more than welcome to stay here. He can even sleep in my room if he wants. The floor is more than spacious.
I already decided to take the big and comfy couch for the night while my patient is still out for the count, anyway.
I can hear my father fret with Alyosha and Caroline in my little tea room--which is in the same room,
