"Ethel Henson is the woman who saved my life. Whatever she says, I go along with it. You didn't actually believe what I said back there, did you?"
He was still as gentle as he used to be.
But now that gentleness made my stomach turn.
I shoved his arm away and stepped back.
His brow darkened instantly, like a switch had been flipped. Like he was the one who had the right to be angry.
"Sarah, when did you get so stubborn?"
"And this," he pointed at the blood on the ground, a mocking smile playing across his face, "you came all this way just so I'd feel sorry for you?"
"You've survived this long without dying. Your illness must be better by now. How could it possibly be getting worse?"
I stared at him, wide-eyed. Frozen.
He reached out to grab my arm again.
I stepped back, wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, and forced myself to stand.
"Nathan." My voice grew fainter with every word. "It's been ten years. Don't you owe me at least an explanation?"
His hand hung suspended in the air, then slowly fell back to his side.
"Sarah, you've lost weight."
There was a time when even a scratch on my hand would make his eyes go red.