"Are you doing anything tonight?" Barbara asks, leaning back in her wheelchair as she turns toward you. She knows what you're doing, of course, she's just giving you the opportunity to come clean. You bought concert tickets a few weeks back and you never told her. The two of you may not be together yet, but you've known her long enough to figure out that's not how this it works.

"Well?" she prompts after a few seconds of silence, her expectant gaze shifting into a glare as you stay quiet.