hung between them for a second and Liv had a strong feeling that they were both thinking the same thing. That opposite thing hadn’t worked out so well with him and her mother.
“Reed is a good guy and smart. He knows what he’s doing.” Liv pushed a few strands of hair away from her face, grimacing at how stiff it was from arena dust.
“Let’s hope” was all Tim said. He seemed to be growing paler before her eyes, reminding her of how far she’d been sidetracked from the issue of his health. Even though she wanted to take him by the front of his shirt and shake him, demand that he tell her what was going on with him, she figured right now a full frontal assault would do more harm than good.
She was going to have to wait. Wait and worry. Then maybe in another couple of days try again if he was still doing his impression of the walking dead.
“I’m going to bed, Dad,” she finally said, well aware of the relief that flickered across his stern features, there then gone. “Why don’t you do the same?”
“I will.”
Of course he would. Just as soon as she did.
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