The room was quiet when Joe opened his eyes again. Too quiet.
The steady hum of the monitors was the only thing tethering him to the moment, their rhythmic beeping a reminder that his body still needed machines to do what it should have been able to do on its own. Somewhere beyond the closed door, voices murmured softly, indistinct and unreachable.
Every inch of him hurt again, though not with the blinding intensity of the night before. This pain was duller. Deeper. The kind that settled into his bones and refused to leave.
He licked his chapped lips and turned his head slowly, the movement dragging fire through his chest. The room came into focus in pieces. Pale walls. Drawn curtains. An empty chair.
No Kari. No Evan. No Dustin.
No Abby.
The absence hit harder than the pain. He let
