34

Kristoff

The Latino nurse pulls open the door and ushers us in, slamming it shut behind her. Patrick is lying on the bed with his face to the wall, looking smallish and pale in his blue patient uniform. His hair is overgrown, sticking out everywhere like a maniac's, and generally, he looks worse than the last time I came to see him.

He turns his head when we enter, then sits up, his movements slow and his hands trembling. “Titania,” he calls, his voice hoarse.

“Uncle!” she shrieks in delight, running to him, pulling him in for a hug, clinging. It doesn't take long for her shoulders to start shaking violently, and I know she's crying. Patrick strokes her hair idly for a few moments, muttering something in her ear before he looks up at me, his eyes widening in surprise. Titania must've felt the shift in mood for she steps back, and turns to glance at me briefly. “I didn't think you'd follow me in,” she pouts, folding her arms over her chest like a boss. “I'd like my ten minutes with him