I swallow. “Noted.”
“I give it a month,” he mutters, moving behind his desk and opening his laptop.
I hesitate, waiting for him to elaborate. Nothing comes, so I clear my throat. “A month?”
He doesn’t look up. “Before you run back home to mummy and daddy.”
I wince. “My mum’s dead.”
My words are met with more silence. I thought maybe he’d at least react, apologise, because that’s what normal people do. Hedoesn’t even flicker, keeping his gaze fixed on the screen in front of him.
“That’ll be all, Ms. Lee.”
Something in my chest tightens. I turn, heading for the door. At least he hasn’t fired me . . .yet.
“Wynter.” I pause. “Try not to rant about me on your way back,” he adds coolly. “There are cameras.”
My hand tightens on the door handle. “Yes, Mr. Carmichael.”
Anika watches me as I change the drainage bag on her catheter, her gaze a little too knowing.
“You must have one question,” she argues.
I keep my focus on what I’m doing. “I don’t,” I reply, a little too quickly.
She smiles. “You do.”
I hesitate. It’s not that I don’t have questions. It’s that I don’t think I’m allowed to ask them.
Ray always seems to be around. Watching. Listening. And something tells me he wouldn’t approve of whatever this is, this easy back-and-forth she keeps trying to build between us.
“Please,” she says softly. “One each. You ask me something, and I’ll ask you something.” I glance up at her. “It’s a good way to get to know each other,” she adds. “And I’m stuck in bed all the time, I need entertainment.”
A small smile tugs at my lips despite myself. “That’s your sales pitch?”
“It’s a good one,” she says with a grin.
I sigh quietly, finishing up and disposing of the bag before turning back to her.
“One question?”
“One question,” she confirms.
I hesitate again then give in.
“Fine.” I nod towards the corner of the room. “Why don’t you ever use that?”
Anika follows my gaze to the sleek, untouched wheelchair. Her expression tightens slightly.
“I hate it,” she says simply. Then, brightening again, she says, “My turn.” I raise a brow. “Tell me about your parents.”
I huff out a small breath. “That’s not exactly a fair trade.”
She grins. “I didn’t say the questions had to be equal.”
I shake my head, reaching for the supplies. “And that’s a big question,” I add. “We’ll be here all day.”
She watches me closely as I move around the room, gathering what I need. “Then you’d better start talking,” she says lightly.