[It's less that she sees his confusion and more than she feels it. There is something instinctive in her understanding of Ben now. What she lacks is a comprehension of her own functionality. What he lacks, often anyway, is an innate comprehension of things that are perceived as ordinary by people like her. People who have lived wholly different lives.]

[So she doesn't hesitate. She just pushes up off the bed and leans over the desk again. It's easier to pick for someone else than it is for herself. She chooses the one that's a little heavier, seemingly more solid, and turns to put it closer to Ben on the desk.]

That one's yours. [Firmly and irrevocably his. She doesn't give him an option, because she thinks this choice is okay for her to help him with. If not, he'll correct her. She's pretty sure of that, too.]

I don't know if the knife you gave me will work. We'll have to take turns, if you're all right with that.