Long after Jamal left, Callan remained in his position on the bed still staring at the white cowling that had started to look like a blank canvas.
The clock on the wall ticked softly but time didn't seem to move. The room was dim, washed in the gray light of dawn creeping through the curtains.
He hadn't slept. Not even for a second.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Ryan's wide lifeless eyes and the sound came back, that deafening bang that felt like it ripped through his skull and not just Ryan's.
He let out a shaky sigh and rubbed his face with both hands when his mind drifted to Emily.
A faint smile tugged at his lips before he could stop it. He thought of her messy bun, the way she smiled when she didn't want to, and how she'd looked at him at the hospital, worried, quiet, holding back tears.
She'd hugged him like she was trying to put him back together.
The smile faded into a sigh when he remembered how he'd almost been tempted to kiss her in the car earlier.
