Before speaking up, I take a deep breath, barely able to bring myself to say the words that are on my mind. “I came to visit you because I wanted to see how you’re doing … And because I want to make sure that you’re doing alright.”
Flora stares at me for a few moments, before raising her eyebrows. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m doing just fine. The leg is healing,” she says, pausing a little before making a spot-on assumption. “But that’s not mainly why you’re here. You could simply ask my parents how I’m doing. Something is bothering you. What is it?”
I can feel my hands sweating, as I avoid her gaze, embarrassed that she was able to read me so quickly and so well. I contemplate whether I should tell her about what truly carried me here or not. I mean, we were never c
