Chapter 28

Perhaps he was more frightened by my terrible appearance than by anything else, because I was sure my face was contorted with terror.

“Johanna, are you—what’s wrong?” he asked me urgently.

“I just had a nightmare, it’s okay. That’s it,” I responded, when I could say something.

I grabbed onto his forearm with my good hand, my cheek resting on his chest, and lifted my face again. He was looking at me with obvious anguish; a distressed light shone in the depths of those blue eyes. He was smart. He knew what I meant. I’m sure he was thinking that it was partly his fault, but before he could say anything, I asked him:

“Can you bring me more pills? There are no more in the box, and my arm hurts a lot.”

He hesitated, yes, but he straightened me up and let me go when he saw that I could stand on my own.

“Yes, of course. I’m going to look for them,” he agreed, with a grunt.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you up here.”

He left me half leaning on the woode