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She is quiet, wrestling with something she’s not sure she should say. “You know things,” she says, her voice barely audible. “You always have. You know things you shouldn’t.”
“Sometimes your father knew things too,” she says, her gaze falling to the table. “Things about you. And the way he insisted at the end…it was like when you were a kid and he was so certain about your allergy before you’d ever had shellfish. He was certain about this too, and that’s what makes me think you should listen to him. Because it’s possible he knew something you don’t.”
“Because I figured out weeks ago that you were interested in someone. I thought it was the patient Lynn said you were spending so much time with, and I figured it would pass because we both know that can’t go anywhere, so if it’s not what I’m thinking, please tell me what the fuck it is.”
“Maybe I’ll go to the future and see if it happens,” she says. She’s teasing me. The room is so dark I can’t see her face, but I hear the smile in her voice.