Everything was, quite suddenly, off balance and he felt utterly foolish as Anjali sat down on the edge of her bed and spoke about Kabir. Even as a child, he'd been reprimanded a million times over about jumping to conclusions. Still, it didn't seem to matter how often he did it and how often he ended up the fool for it, he couldn't seem to slow down when a notion took hold.

And as suddenly as the anger had gripped him, it cooled. He leaned against the wall where she had first spied him upon waking, jamming his hands into his pockets while he stared at his shoes, his brow drawn.

"I didn't come here for this," he admitted at last, his tone so low she would have to strain to hear him. "I came because I missed you. I don't really care about the letter." He paused and then looked up at her. "No. I do care." A brick fell. "Why didn't you write back?" Another brick. "I needed to hear from you. Merlin, Anjali...I wasn't kidding when I told you that you were my lifeblood."