“Meaning,” I stopped, struggling with my words for a moment, “that you won’t totally hate me for this.”
He sighed and looked away, “If you’d told me right away I wouldn’t have hated you.”
“No, you just wouldn’t have believed me. That would have been much better,” I said sarcastically, “And when you finally did believe me, you’d run off to see her and then I’d get sued. Joy, now that sounds like fun.”
He stared at me uncomprehendingly for a moment. And then, slowly, he said, “What hospital did you work at?”
Suddenly, I felt anger rear it’s ugly head inside of me. I glared at him icily. “I’m not an idiot, Drew.”
“Paige!” he gestured frustratedly, “This is Cynthia! She’s alive! Don’t you know what this means?”
“This means that she may or may not turn into a vegetable, but otherwise, not too much. She won’t know whether your there or not. If she gets close to dying again you can go down and say goodbye properly, but otherwise, I see no reason for you to go rushing off to see her.”