His face was so red Bones thought his cheeks would burst from the pressure. Splat. Blood vessels all over the aggressively sterile walls. He opened his journal, took out Alice’s phony menus, and threw them at Bones. “Do you think I give a shit that you lied to me about the fucking green beans?” Anger spread like a fever down his neck. His eyes were magnified behind his glasses. “YOU ALMOST KILLED HER, DICKHEAD!” Bones looked around helplessly, completely lost. He wanted to stop the clock, give himself a second chance to do it over again. Rewind his trip to the kitchen; bypass the box on the counter with the menus. All he could do was stare at the floor and try to picture Alice back on the ward. “You think I don’t know that you two meet every night? And exercise like sick fucks? But did I say anything about it? No. None of my business, I told myself while she got skinny enough to thread through a needle.” Bones knew he did this to her. All by myself. “You were there when I refused to substitute those menus.”
