“I heard about your father,” she said, her voice low.

Without waiting for him to say anything, she stepped into the compartment. Automatically, the door slid shut behind her. The room was suddenly plunged into darkness again. In the faint glow from the fluorescent painting, he started to reach for the light switch.

“No—” she said. “It’s all right like this. We don’t need lights.”

“Val—”

She was standing very close to him. He could smell the fragrance of her hair.

“I saw Dan. They took him to the infirmary. He collapsed.”

“I know,” Larry said.

He wanted to touch her, to put his arms around her and let her warmth engulf him. But he knew he couldn’t.

“You’d better… sit down,” he said.

Valery went to the plastic chair in front of the desk. She sat on it and tucked her feet up under her, as simple and feminine as a cat. Larry could see her in the darkness as a gleam of white, like a pale nebula set against the depths outside. He sat on the edge of the bunk.

“I wish there was something I could say,” Valery began. “I just feel so helpless.”

Larry found himself gripping the edge of the bunk hard with both hands. “Uh… how’s Dan?”

“Asleep. The medics have sedated him. He’s… he’s not strong, like you.”

“He does his thing, I do mine,” Larry said. “He shows his grief on the outside.”

“And you keep yours locked up inside you, so nobody can see.”

He didn’t answer.

“I can see it,” Valery said, her voice soft as a star-cloud. “I came over to tell you. I know what’s going on inside you, Larry. I…”

“Stop it!” he snapped. “You’re going to marry Dan in two more months. Leave me alone.”

Even in the darkness, he could sense her body stiffen. Then she said, “But I don’t love Dan. I love you.”