He stared at me. I could tell his mind was frenetic with speculation. His mouth was twisted to one side, eyebrows furrowed.
I felt sure he was about to accuse me of something, though I wasn’t sure what.
He peered through the window into Maya’s room.
“She’s waking up,” he muttered. “We’ll talk later.”
“Nurse,” he called in the general direction of the VIP charge desk, “come in here and check on this patient.”
He didn’t wait to see if he’d been heard or acknowledged.
He swept back into the room to see what Maya needed, quickly followed by a young nurse.
I exhaled deeply, lungs screaming in relief. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath.
***
It was days before I saw him again. He didn’t return to the pack house, even at night.
I was sure the doctor had said Maya only n
