"Have some electrolytes, Mr. Smith."
"Oh…"
The technician handed Adam a plastic bottle, and from the beads of water sliding down on it, it was cold.
Just what Adam needed.
"You… lost a lot of blood back there."
"I'm used to it." Adam accepted the drink with both hands, nodding as he looked behind the technician to see if anyone else was coming inside. "Thank you."
They were inside a sterile room—and from the white curtains and the unique scent lingering in the air, it was probably a clinic. Although they probably removed the medicine cabinets in fear of him contaminating everything with his blood.
That didn't matter, though. He had already changed into a clean set of clothes provided to him by the IBAA—simple gray sweats that smelled like a closet.
