It’s Saturday, I’ve been at Anna’s for almost a week now and I’m starting to heal finally. I went back to work yesterday and although everyone was glad to see me, they all said I looked like the illness had taken a toll on me. I can see in the mirror that I’m thinner than usual and my usually healthy skin has a grey tinge to it. At least my sickness story looks believable and I’m able to walk and breathe ok on the pain meds so no one suspects a thing.
I called Mom briefly after Peter’s operation and he seems to be recovering well. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about it other than her not even Dad, although he’s called me twice leaving his usual upbeat voicemails pretending everything is fine.
I'm in my room, not wanting to see anyone, distracting myself by finally returning Amy's
