It felt like my heart was hammering against my chest much harder than it was supposed to be, but I guessed that that was a result of the internal conflict that I was currently facing, a result of the panic that I was trying to desperately to supress in hopes that it would keep me from saying or doing something that would put me in a risky situation.
After all, I needed to keep in mind that this man was a literal stranger to me. Admittedly, he had come closer to me than any man had ever done—there was literally no one who could say that they had shared a room with me, and that counts for the time that I had been hospitalised. But now this stranger, this infiltrator, could say that. He could say it to anyone whom he wanted to, and I wouldn’t be able to say anything about it, because he wou
