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Unlike David, Mara never spoke to me as though I were already dead.
She always announced herself before entering.
She always asked permission before touching me.
And she had recently begun looking uncomfortable whenever David insisted on preparing my meals.
“Are you awake?”
I focused on the communication screen.
YES.
Mara’s eyes widened slightly when the computer responded.
She closed the door carefully.
“Can you understand me?”
YES.
She pulled a chair beside the bed.
“I need to tell you something.”
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I concentrated.
WHAT?
Mara looked toward the hallway.
“Yesterday, I found something strange in the kitchen.”
My pulse accelerated.
“What kind of thing?”
She leaned closer.
“Your dinner plate. David had already prepared it, but when I came to collect the dishes, I noticed he had thrown away the rest of the food separately.”
I stared at her.
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. But I remembered something from last week. He asked me not to keep any leftover food from your meals because the doctors had supposedly warned him about contamination.”
