“Ah, I’m not sure what time dinner is.” Dale looked at his watch instinctively, frowning at the condensation across the crystal. I meant to put that on the windowsill to dry. “I could probably have the nurse—or someone—get you something.” Would she flip out when the nurse came back? They’d want to change her bandages, they’d probably have to do some more work on her hand . . . maybe they were still going to do some more stuff with him, too. Had they opened up his shoulder to work on it? “I’ll have to ask when we get back to the room.”