Yan waited until the patient queue had cleared before he approached Qinghe in the records room. She was correcting a dosage entry with a fine brush. He stood at the open door.
“Do you have a moment?”
She set the brush down. “Yes.”
“I’ve been wondering if you’re avoiding me.”
Qinghe looked at him for a few seconds. Yan kept his hands loose at his sides and let the question stand without adding a defense.
“I’ve been worried about the Registry confrontation,” she said. “The work gives me something clear to do. And I’m afraid the court will use our closeness to pressure either of us.”
Yan felt the answer settle in him. It hurt to hear that she was afraid, but it was better than building a story from her schedule.
“I can’t promise they won’t try,” he said. “What would help?”
