I hug myself and watch Sephtis, who watches me as well. "You never harmed me. But, you think we can’t work?" I ask. "I know... " he mutters somberly, "because I've tried before." My mind is suddenly flooded with memories: the first night Sephtis had slept in the guest bedroom, how he'd suffered a nightmare, and called out in his sleep, distraught and begging forgiveness. "You had a wife." My words are a statement, not a question.
