21 - Eleanor
To Eleanor’s relief, Larson didn’t die. The day after their last encounter, he visited her. He wore a bandage around his head and limped.
‘I feared I had killed you,’ she exclaimed, comforted to see him standing.
‘You did well.’ He ignored her reaction, ambled by her, and helped himself to a chair. Eleanor caught a grimace on his face as he did so.
‘I didn’t want to kill—’
Larson’s deadpan expression cut off her voice.
He didn’t want an apology from her. ‘Do you look so sick because of me and what I did?’ she asked, feeling troubled. Larson hadn’t been nice to her; as a matter of fact, he had been a jerk so far. Still, she didn’t wish to hurt him.
‘I don’t want to harm anyone.’
‘To make a long story short, I would be dead without a minor surgery. I’m still weak, as you
