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“I’m Emma. I’m looking for August. Have you seen him?”
“My doctor?” the boy asks. “Are you a friend of his?”
“Yeah, I am.”
The boy stares at me.
“He’s saved me,” he whispers.
He must be Ethan.
“You’re Ethan?”
“Yep.”
“So the operation went well?” I ask.
The boy smiles at me.
“Doctor August says it went perfectly. I’m going to get better.”
I smile back.
“I didn’t expect anything less from a man like that.”
“He is a nice man,” Ethan says. “And a good doctor.”
“He is.”
“Are you a dancer, Emma?” Ethan asks me.
I stare at him, puzzled.
“I am,” I reply. “And how do you know that?”
“August told me he has a dancer friend, and I thought it might be you.”
“Oh, of course he did. And, yes, that’s me.”
“He told me his dancer friend is very beautiful,” the boy remarks.
“Really? He did?”
“I think he was right,” Ethan says with a cheeky grin. “I think you’re very beautiful.”
I shake my head at the boy.
“Thank you for that, Ethan.”
“Will you dance for me?” he asks. “Because August says you’re very good.”
“For you? Dance for you now?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t, Ethan,” I say.
“You don’t want to?” he asks.
