*Castor*

Tears well in her eyes, and I realize I shouldn't have confessed something so personal that involved her. But during the two weeks I was in the Tower and the months following when my life had gone to hell, memories of her had sustained me. But that doesn’t mean I should tell her.

“Hand me the linen. I can finish up here”. I say brusquely, probably too briskly, because she seems to snap into action.

"I can do it". She says, shaking her head lightly. “Stop complaining”.

She is gentle, but firm as she starts putting the clean bandage around my body. I know she is trying hard not...