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'You were here for that?'
'I've been here all the time,' she said. 'I'm living in a room down the hall.'
'What about work?'
'Leave of absence,' she said. 'I told them, agree or I quit.'
She ducked down to a laminate cupboard and came out with a stack of clothes. New jeans, new s.h.i.+rt, new jacket, new socks and shorts, all folded and piled together, his old shoes squared on top, Army-style.
'They're nothing special,' she said. 'I didn't want to take too much time out. I wanted to be with you when you woke up.'
'You sat around here for three weeks?'
'Felt like three years,' she said. 'You were all scrunched up. Comatose. You looked awful. In a real bad way.'
'This satellite thing,' he said. 'Does it have Garrison on it?'
'You going up there?'
He shrugged.
'I guess. I need to take it easy, right? Country air might do me good.'
Then he looked away from her.
'Maybe you could stay with me a while, you know, help me recover.'
He threw back the sheet and slid his feet to the floor. Stood up, slow and unsteady, and started to dress, while she held his elbow to keep him from falling.
THE END
Also by Lee Child
KILLING FLOOR
DIE TRYING
TRIPWIRE
THE VISITOR
ECHO BURNING
WITHOUT FAIL
PERSUADER
THE ENEMY
ONE SHOT
THE HARD WAY
BAD LUCK AND TROUBLE
NOTHING TO LOSE
GONE TOMORROW
