Timothy turned to her. "You already set them."
"No," Hana replied. "New ones. For here."
Timothy waited.
Hana held up one finger. "We eat like normal people. Not protein bars. Not whatever you consider fuel."
Timothy nodded once.
Second finger. "We walk. We don't sit in the room and pretend that resting is staring at a wall."
Timothy nodded again.
Third finger. "If you talk about the car, I throw your phone in the ocean."
Timothy stared at her. "That's extreme."
"That's effective," Hana said.
Timothy gave a small nod. "Fine."
Hana moved away from the balcony, went to the bed, and lay flat on her back like she had been shot.
Timothy stood there, unsure what to do with that image. Hana didn't rest like most people. When she stopped, she stopped hard.
"You okay," Timothy asked.
Hana closed her eyes. "No. Yes. Shut up."
Timothy sat on the edge of the bed, then stood again like he didn't want to be in the wrong place.
Hana opened one eye. "Sit. You're pacing."
