The Mirador
“Felix let me go, but later, a couple hours after I’d heard him and Gideon go into their room, my door opened and he came in, crowned with witchlights. “You’re awake,” he said. He stopped maybe a foot inside the door. “You ain’t asking,” I said and sat up. “Are you all right?” “Sure, I’m fine.” “I don’t suppose it is any of my business.” That sat there for a minute, since I didn’t know what to say. “Something’s eating at you,” he said. “If I promise not to lose my temper and not to say anything cruel, will you tell me what it is?” “It ain’t Strych.” “It doesn’t have to be,” he said, calm and almost gentle, and that gave me the nerve to say it. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About Ginevra.” “Ginevra. She still haunts you.” He wasn’t asking that time, either. “Yeah, I guess.” There was another long pause. I couldn’t read his face. Then he heaved a sigh and said, “May I sit down?” “Sure,” I said and made room for him on the bed.
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