"Yes. I mean, not if it's just a homework assignment or a reminder to buy socks, but there's a lot of private content."

Trouble shrugs.

"You going to be here much longer?"

"End of the week at least. Might not be back at school for a while after that."

"I really don't."

"Well, I'll be back Friday, anything else I should bring?"

"Cookies?" he suggests whimsically.

"I might not find time to bake. Is storebought better than nothing?" she asks, unloading miscellaneous novels and a random pop psychology book from her backpack and setting them on the table beside him.

"Yeah. Ooh, books. I wanna hug you, can I hug you?"

"I don't know, are you healed enough for that to be wise?"

"It won't kill me. Won't even make me any worse, probably."

"How probably?"

"Probably like not unless you decide to punch me in the chest, that's how probably."

"I am not going to decide to punch you in the chest. You may hug me."

He grins and sits up and holds out his good arm.

Hugs.

He hugs her harder than he probably should, given his condition, and in fact when he lets go he is biting his lip a little. But he seems happy. 'Aglow' might be a good word for it.

"Do I?"

"Yes." She pats him on the head; it seems like a thing to do. "I'll be back Friday, with cookies of one sort or another."

"Okay," says Trouble, grinning.

She is back on Friday. She has a little bag of cookies with her, which look plausibly homemade. "Andi made me the dough in exchange for help with her English essay, but I babysat the actual batches," says Bella.

"Awwwwwwwwww, lemme hug you again," he says, beaming.