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The pleasantry frustrated Zamir. He didn’t want to pass moments engaged in idle chit chat.
“Ra’if is doing remarkably. If you could see him now, you would not recognise him as the same man who walked through our doors two months ago.”
“Excellent.”
“He’s really turned a corner in his recovery. He’s coming to every group session we have scheduled, and mentoring some of our newer patients. In all my years practicing, I’m not sure I’ve seen a more promising recovery.”
Zamir exhaled a breath of relief. “Do you feel he would be well enough to return to Dashan soon?”
“Definitely. I’d like to meet a physician first, who could oversee his progress once home. I think it’s important to keep some continuity of care going. Do you have someone in mind?”
“Yes.” Zamir had interviewed specialists and found the foremost expert in the country. “I can arrange for Doctor Hibi to come to you. Is my brother there now? I would like to speak to him.”
“Hmm,” Doctor Swan could be heard clicking into his computer. “They checked out into the garden about an hour ago. And they’re usually gone for several hours. I can have him call you upon his return?”
“Fine.” He was about to disconnect the call when he thought better of it. “You said ‘They’re’, doctor?” He repeated.
“Yes, the woman who comes to see him.”
Zamir felt a rush of panic. What if the press had found Ra’if after all? What if a reporter was visiting him? Or worse, someone from his past life?
“Who is it? Who is this woman?”
The doctor’s voice was instantly defensive. “We check everyone before they come into the facility, sir. There’s no chance she’s bringing him anything banned.”
“Who is she?”
More tapping on Doctor Swan’s computer screen. “A Miss Olivia Henderson.”
Zamir felt as though he’d been sucker-punched. He sat down in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut. “How often does she visit?”
And though it wasn’t physically possible, he thought he could hear the kindly smile on Doctor Swan’s portly features. “Every day, sir. She’s very devoted to him.”
Envy, fury and a foul odour of betrayal fogged Zamir.
“Thank you, doctor. I’ll be in touch.”
He disconnected the call and stood jerkily from his seat. Olivia Henderson was visiting his brother, and Zamir would not rest until he found out why.
“I’m sure you’re cheating,” she laughed, handing over the deed card for the most prestigious property on the board.
“I do not cheat,” he responded with mock gravity. “I win, though. And I win often.”
“Oh! The pain! The shame! What would my sisters say?” She clutched her hands to her chest in an exaggerated gesture of having been wounded.
“They would urge you to be wiser than to wage war against a master such as me,” he grinned. “How is Ava? Have you heard any more?”
“No,” Olivia shook her head. “Only that Cristiano is there now.” She sipped her hot chocolate and then folded her legs onto the seat. Her clothes were too baggy on her slim frame. Though she wore black leggings, the sweater was enormous. She looked very young, and very innocent.
“You are sitting like a school child,” he pointed out.
“And I am drinking hot cocoa. Which must make me about ten years old.”
He nodded gravely. “If only. Would it not be great to slip back in time, just for a little while?”
“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. She stifled yet another yawn. It was late in the afternoon, and she’d hardly slept all week, owing to the new upstairs neighbours and their yapping puppy. “I’m not a believer in looking back.”
Ra’if placed the dice back on the board so that he could concentrate on her face. “Liv, has anyone ever told you that you are truly unique?”
