”Yael seemed to want to say more, but let it go.“Soup,” she said instead, raising the lid on a steaming pot. “From my mother. I hope you like ...inkers.” She stirred the dumplings at the bottom. “That’s the way she makes them.”“Joshua.”“Sir.”Yael’s father looked at the flowers at the window – a gift from Loira – suspiciously. “You’re healing well?”“Yes, Sir. I can make it around the ward now.”“Good. That’s good.” His eyes lingered on the torture device at the foot of the bed. “And your physical. She brought me to your room last night,” he said. “She said you could have me.”Mindy folded her arms under her breasts, which looked smaller somehow, now that they were covered.“You’ve spent too much time away from people, and not nearly enough around women,” she said. “When I saw the two of you last night, I wanted to tie her up and send her to her room. I know she would feel the same way if she saw us together, especially if she saw us while we were doing that.”None of this made any sense to. More

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