They have the same eyes. That was what I immediately noticed upon seeing Mel for the first time. She sat now beside the windowsill in the music room, though slouching is actually better description.

"Come to check if I've gone mad?" she asks in a raw voice, her glossy eyes still looking out.

"As if," I say sarcastically, coming towards her while pulling up a chair.

"They still haven't moved that silly tree you know," she says irritably, "those gardeners can be so stupid sometimes."

After settling myself down she must have noticed that I wasn't planning to go away too soon. I was trying to seem relaxed and ignorant but she could see right through my disguise. She was getting better. But then she always said it was only with Ted that her mind went blank. I still can't figure out why.

After asking her how she was and if things were steadily improving, she asked me why I had come. I decided to go straight to the point.

"Mel, does he know about Sally?" I ask in the nicest way possible.

I see her stiffen before relaxing again. Or so she would like me to think.

"No", she mumbles, refusing to look me, "I think it's best that way."

This shocks me slightly and without thinking properly I blurt out,

"Why?"

She took a couple of moments, squinting her eyes before finally looking at me.

"It's for her sake as well as mine. She will know when she's older," she says in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Is she happy staying with your sister?" I ask, but I know the answer. Sally seemed happy and content right now, and Hannah I knew was bringing her up wonderfully. Mel simply smiled, before looking out again. We sit there for a while, a fellow patient playing the piano in the background; we listen for a bit before I say hesitantly,

"Can I suggest something?"

She looks back at me, and but this time I noticed her eyes were glimmering; I should go soon and leave her.

"Sure, sure, got for it," she says, blinking back the tears.

"Why don't you write about it? The whole thing," I say, and the piano stops playing, and suddenly I find it hard to breath. I may have stepped over a line.

When I look up, her face is expressionless and I can't tell what she's thinking. This makes me nervous all of a sudden, but then as quickly as it came the mood softens as her eyes express wonder.

"That's a good idea," she says, before the nurse comes, telling me that visiting time is over. I give a quick good bye and smile before leaving, but just as I exit the door I hear her say,

"Lieutenant! Sally could read it when she's older, and maybe perhaps I can even talk about it, when I'm ready."

She flashes me a smile. It's the last that I will see of her.