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At least in the hospital hallways, there were still parts of it that were less bright than the others.
In the break room, though?
There wasn’t a single place to hide.
“I brought enough food for a couple of days,” she said, going to the fridge.
I was already telling her no before she even opened it.
“No,” I said. “I’m not eating your food.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I’m serious,” I said. “I don’t want to eat your food.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at me with a sad smile on her face.
“You’re avoiding me,” I said.
She hadn’t outright walked the other direction when I’d come into the room, but I had seen her
three times since dinner the other week, and each time she’d found something to keep her busy.
The first time had been at the supermarket.
She’d seen me, made eye contact, smiled. Then she’d turned down the nearest aisle, adding food
to her buggy and moving at the speed of light in the opposite direction.
The next two times had been at the hospital.
Both times had been me either transporting a patient to the hospital or taking one from the hospital to temporary lockup.
Each of those times, she’d seen me and turned and walked in the other direction.
And it was starting to get on my nerves.
She looked taken back by my honesty but shook her head and gestured to the chairs at the table
between us.
When we both took our seats, she folded her hands in front of her and looked at the table as she
started to explain.
“I’m not…” She blew out a breath. “Riel… I’m really fucked up.”
I didn’t doubt that for a second.
That made two of us.
“My lines are blurring,” she said. “Things are becoming a little confused in my brain, and every
time that I think I have a handle on it, something sneaks out and yanks me right back into a place that I really shouldn’t linger in.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
She rubbed her face vigorously.
