It had been a week. Although for Jerome it had felt like months, maybe even years. He had visited everyday, skipped dinner so he could go alone, and made up excuse after excuse.
He was sure the others knew.
He passed up the opportunities to go and visit her at the hospital with the rest of them. They knew he wasn't as heartless to not visit Amber at all.
"Someone painted her nails for her." Nina told him, trying to make conversation in this desperate time.
Jerome smiled and buried his nose in his book.
He knew they knew it was him. He had taken Amber's favourite nail polish from her room and painted her nails for her yesterday.
"Is she awake yet?" Trudy asked, beginning to set the table.
"No, not yet. The doctor says if we keep talking to her she might though."
Jerome caught Fabian looking at him. It was a sad, sympathetic look. He knew.
He forced a weak smile. He didn't want to give himself away.