It was a mess. To be fair, so was I.The door opened and I sighed, fought a cough. “Yeah, enter.”“Just me.” David. I froze. How? Why? I switche... on the small lamp by my bed, hoping that its soft light would not reveal too much of this mess.He looked around, negotiated his way to my bed. Dropping his rucksack on one of the free spaces on the floor he sat down on my bed.“MacDonald, you look like shit.”Yeah, sure I did. Sweaty, hair in an entangled mess, dark circles under my eyes. “So, you came. . But the truth wasn’t quite pleasant, I knew.“I can’t, Lara. It’s Heather’s thing to tell, or ... whatever. I can’t even explain it without saying something. And I’m sorry about the scarf, but I can’t ... say—ugh!”Lara swallowed but said nothing.“I am really sorry,” I muttered. “I want to tell you, but I can’t. I promised not to. And it’s kind of killing me right now.”“You should keep that promise.”“Or maybe I shouldn’t,” I muttered.“No, you should. This is the bed we made, you know. We can’t. More

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