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and I tried not to picture a needle and
thread。
〃You try very hard to make up for something that was never your fault;〃 I
suggested while a new kind of
tugging started at the edges of my skin。 〃What I mean is; it's not like you
asked for this。 You didn't
choose this kind of life; and yet you have to work so hard to be good。〃
〃I don't know that I'm making up for anything;〃 he disagreed lightly。 〃Like
everything in life; I just had to
decide what to do with what I was given。〃
〃That makes it sound too easy。〃
He examined my arm again。 〃There;〃 he said; snipping a thread。 〃All done。〃 He
wiped an oversized
Q…tip; dripping with some syrup…colored liquid; thoroughly across the
operation site。 The smell was
strange; it made my head spin。 The syrup stained my skin。
〃In the beginning; though;〃 I pressed while he taped another long piece of
gauze securely in place; sealing
it to my skin。 〃Why did you even think to try a different way than the obvious
one?〃
His lips turned up in a private smile。 〃Hasn't Edward told you this story?〃
〃Yes。 But I'm trying to understand what you were thinking〃
His face was suddenly serious again; and I wondered if his thoughts had gone
to the same place that mine
had。 Wondering what I would be thinking when—I refused to think if—it was
me。
〃You know my father was a clergyman;〃 he mused as he cleaned the table
carefully; rubbing everything
down with wet gauze; and then doing it again。 The smell of alcohol burned in
my nose。 〃He had a rather
harsh view of the world; which I was already beginning to question before the
time that I changed。〃