“One of the few benefits.”
She does not smile.
She just keeps looking at me.
Then her gaze flicks once toward the wall.
Caterina’s room is on the other side.
Nothing about Teresa’s face changes enough for most people to read, but I know her. I see the connection forming.
“No,” I say.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Her eyes come back to mine. “Adrian.”
“Drop it.”
“That means yes.”
“It means drop it.”
Her expression cools. Not anger. Concern, which is worse.
“Please tell me you know what you’re doing.”
The question hits too close to the truth.
I take a sip of coffee to buy half a second. It’s strong. Black.
Perfect.
Then I set it back down.
“I do.”
Teresa says nothing.
“Everything's fine,” I reassure her.
Teresa looks toward the wall again, and her expression softens.
“She had a horrible night.”
“I know.”
“She’s not used to needing anyone.”
“I know that too.”
“She’s probably humiliated.”
My jaw tightens. “She shouldn’t be.”
“No,” Teresa says. “But she will be. You know she will.”
