Elle
Freyja and I made our way to the infirmary, essentially a doctor’s office with two or three patient rooms. Mike was the only one occupied. When we entered the room, Mike sat up in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mother fussed around him, adjusting his pillows, smoothing his blankets, offering him water or food.
“Hello,” Freyja said, making Sally jump and Mike twitch. “Sorry, we just wanted to talk with Mike.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Sally said and went to sit in the chair beside his bed. Mike tensed up but refused to look at his mother. I knew there was no way he was going to talk in front of his mother.
“Would you mind if we spoke with Mike alone?” I asked Sally and George.
“Why?” Sally gasped and looked up at her husband.
“I think it would be easier for
