I have a headache. Chiro care isn't working, I actually think it's making it worse. Ben isn't coming home, he really needs his program so he's asking me to have faith that he will come home strong enough to take over (just two more weeks, Bumblebee) and in the meantime, well, Lochlan continues to have some freakish, sudden magical knack for making this feel like just another sunny week here on Point Perdition.
Besides, he's only had to peel me up from my facedown position on the floor of the garage six or seven times so far. No biggie.
But I'm not worried about me. Maybe he's right. Maybe somewhere deep down I knew all along, though I got abrupt confirmation when Henry charged into the living room and shoved Caleb away from me. It became so clear. His movements. His words. His face.
(Henry had come back to get a book and walked in on Caleb's threats and he didn't like what he saw. Not one bit.)
He's not yours, I said. And Caleb was so surprised by Henry's sudden out-of-the-blue aggression that he agreed with me.
