Two days later, I was discharged.
Arthur had deliberately cleared his morning surgery schedule and drove to the clinic's affiliated hospital.
He clearly saw his presence as a concession—as though I should be moved just because he had shown up.
I sat quietly in a wheelchair while Amy completed the paperwork.
Arthur studied my face for a few seconds.
After the transfusion, I must have looked terrible. Needle marks covered the back of my hand, and my wrist had grown so thin that the hospital gown hung loose around it.
"The doctor said you need rest." Arthur stood before me. "Once you're better, I can take a few days off. Haven't you always wanted to visit Frostpeak National Park?"
In the past, I would have pulled out a map and started planning the route. I would have checked the weathe
