She arrives at the hospital the next morning, her eyes puffy from crying, but with her head held high. She knows she will see Greg that day, and the thought pains her. And then there is Wayne. 'How can I face either of them,' she thinks, making her way to the table in the back of the classroom, the table she usually shares with Greg. Today it is noticeably empty.      Greg walks into the room a few moments later. He glances over at her, an almost expectant look on his face. He looks away quickly and sits at a table at the front of the room. Melinda bites her lip and sighs. Seeing him is harder than she had anticipated. She forces herself to look away and begins doodling absent-mindedly in the notebook before her, letting her mind wander away from Greg, to Wayne, to her father. She stops, remembering how she had stormed out of his house. She winces inwardly at the memory. She had been justified, hadn't she? After all, he hadn't given her any answers. 'No, I'm right,' she thinks, trying to convince herself. 'He lied to me. I don't need him in my life.'      "Melinda. Melinda?"      She is startled to the present by the sound of Wayne's voice. "Oh!" she says. "Sorry, I was thinking."      He looks at her a bit quizzically and then nods. "I need you at the desk for a few hours today," he says. "There's some paperwork that needs to be done. Then you can make your rounds."      She nods. "Ok," she says softly, avoiding eye contact. "I'm on it."      She makes her way to the front desk as quickly as she can, intent on burying herself in the work that awaits her. But she feels a hand on her shoulder and stops.      "Melinda, what's going on?"      She turns and faces Wayne. There is a look of genuine concern on his face. She is overcome with a wave of emotion. 'There was tenderness in his touch,' she thinks. 'Maybe he really does care.'      She sighs and shakes her head. "I had a bad weekend, that's all," she says, trying to brush him off.      He is silent, considering her. "You saw your father," he says matter-of-factly. "And Greg… He wasn't sitting with you today…"      She looks down at her feet, biting her lip. How was it that he knew her so well? From the moment they had first met at her grandmother's house, he had known her. And perhaps he knew her better than anyone else. Maybe even better than she knew herself.