With his reading done she knew that he would now tell her goodbye and leave her to herself and her thoughts. She knew she couldn’t expect him to just sit there all of the time staring at her unmoving form, but she dreaded when he left. She felt his breath on her neck as she always did before he left. The only time it was different was when he gave her the warm liquid that Sally claimed to be his blood. Jewel didn’t believe that, however. Blood would never taste that good or make her feel so connected to another. She figured it must be symbolic in some way, which is why Sally likened it to blood. This was not one of those times. Instead, he blew on her gently as if blowing on a wound to stop the sting and then whispered to her the same words he said every time.
“Keep fighting, Little Dove.
