The hospital room is quieter than the ambulance, but that doesn’t make it any better.
A monitor pulses beside me. The lights are dimmed, but nothing is ever truly dark here. There’s always a glow beneath a door, a green number flickering on a screen, a shadow moving behind glass.
I lie beneath a thin blanket with fluids running into my arm. The doctor says that I’m seriously dehydrated, and my blood pressure dropped crazy low. They want to monitor me for at least twenty-four hours.
The door opens now, and I know who it is before I even look.
Locke steps inside. He hesitates on the threshold, as though he's suddenly unsure whether he has the right to cross it. For a heartbeat, we simply look at one another.
He looks nothing like himself.
His hair is sticking up in every direction, as
