After talking to Petrie and Lister in relation to post-trial events he walked. When he saw her, propped with pillows, anxious to know, fearful of knowing, his mouth gummed up. In the end she had to ask. He watched her eyes flicker, watched the words form. 'How long?'
Mouth dry he told her. 'Twenty. Non parole of twelve.'
There was no reaction. Like she was carved in stone. It took several moments for the figure to shift into measurable time span.
'There's something else you should know.' Anything to remove that look. He didn't know what to do with himself. Stay where he was, pace the room, join her on the bed. He stayed where he was and told her, in jerky spurts to start, of all that had occurred since she had been out of action. He told her, hoping to see something more acceptable settle in her eyes. But all that registered was what she had not been able to do for her brother.