When we wake up, it’s me, instead of Ada, pressed tightly to Ansel, but I feel Ada more than ever. Just as with Jeff, she doesn’t have to speak. It’s a knowingness, a heightened sense of the two of us that is linked in a new way.Ansel begins to rouse around noon, I scurry over from the table near the window where I’ve been trying to brainstorm plans for a dance class.“Hi,” I say, leaning close. His breathing is still shallow and his face is pale.He tries to sit up.“Here, let me help you,” I say.“I’m fine,” he says with a growl.I ignore his foul mood and call for someone to bring him lunch. They bring in a tray of food, but he pushes it away.“I can’t eat this,” he says.“At least drink something,” I say, handing him a glass of juice.Thankfully, Ansel drinks it. I try to help him get up to make his way into the bathroom, but he won’t let me.“I don’t need any help,” Karin. His eyes are clouded with anger.He wobbles for a moment, but then he’s able to take some weakened steps.A
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