-Bruce-
Quinn stood in front of me as I finally ate some late lunch in the kitchen, but I noticed the way he would pace, then stop, scratch his neck, then pace some more. He walked circles around the kitchen island, passing me, and on his fourth tour, I reached out, yanking him back and forcing him to sit down.
“Hey!” he complained.
“It’s very hard to enjoy my food with you pacing like that,” I explained.
“Oh, sorry,” he apologized and turned in his seat to face forward, but then his foot began tapping against the floor.
“Quinn!”
“Sorry, sorry!” he repeated, but it didn’t remove his nervous energy.
“She wanted to be alone. We have to respect that,” I reminded him.
“I just think—”
“No.”
“But what if—”
“No, Quinn, she wanted to be alone. We will go see her once we have packed up h
