Grace
The first time we meet is like a foreshadow of the rest of our relationship. Not that you can call it that. Less relationship, more mutual understanding. Elizabeth does not enter through the front doors like this is a stay at a motel. She does not act like her visit is only temporary. She does not go down without a fight.
I suppose this should have been my first clue.
When I hear the familiar click of the lock, I assume it is my lunch. It’s nearly that time, and today I am hungry, which is unusual. Food feels appealing for the first time in a long time. It could be on account of the new meds Dr. Branson is trying out. He says I am healing nicely, that everything has gone according to plan. I don’t know what he means by healing or according to plan, and I’m almost too afraid to ask
