He closed his eyes briefly, as though blaming himself anyway.
I called for help. While we waited, Alex placed a folded blanket beneath Dorothy’s leg and spoke to her in a quiet, steady voice.
« Stay with me, Dot. The paramedics are coming. »
« I am not dying, » she muttered.
« I know. »
« Then stop looking at me as if I am. »
His mouth tightened, and I realized he was fighting tears.
The paramedics determined that Dorothy had badly sprained her ankle but had not broken it. They carried her upstairs and settled her on the couch after she refused to go to the hospital.
Once they left, I turned on Alex.
« What is going on here? »
He looked at Dorothy before answering.
« She should tell you. »
Dorothy sighed. « Sit down, Greta. »
