“Youthinkyou’reinapositioiaterightnow?”Hisvoicewasn’tdomineeringthewayitusuallywas.Hesloweditdownonpurpose.“Youneededawalljusttowalkfromthewaitiohere.Areyousureyou’llstillhavethestrengthtogetyourselfbacktoShilinafteryoutakemedie?”

        Craturnedhergazeaway,lipspressedtight,refusingtoanswer.

        “Ifyoudohefeverdowntoday,youwon’tmakeittosorrow.Youmightevenmessupweek’smidterms.”Elian’seyesdroppedththand—thethumbedihabletape.“Andthathand—”

        “Youhaven’tpracticedfortwodaysalready.Ifyoudoterfast,whatareyougoingtodotwomonthsfromnow—goonstageandpyairbass?Arewethrowingourdeaway?”

        Craclosedhereyesandtookaloh.

        Whensheopehemagaiilllihere—thin,impossibletohide—butthedeathgriponthearmrestshadloosened.

        “…Ithurts,”shemuttered.

        Eliancould.Thefaicurvetouchedtheerofhismouth.

        Hedidn’tughather.Hestraightened,reachedoutagain—thistimemutlerthanbefore.

        “Gotit.I’lltelltheobecareful.”

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