The room settled back into silence after the nurse's footsteps faded down the hall. The quiet wasn't peaceful. It felt heavy, like something unseen was pressing down on the air. Lilly sat beside Nathan again, her hand still holding his, even though he'd already drifted into a restless half-sleep. His breathing came unevenly, his body twitching once in a while like his mind refused to rest.
She stared at him, at the pale color of his skin against the white sheets, at the faint shadow of fear that hadn't left his face even in sleep. The way he had said it—the look, the recognition, stuck to her like ice under her skin. A teacher. A fired teacher.
The words replayed, looping through her mind until the meaning blurred. Nathan had never been one to imagine things. Even when he was younger, he was sharp about faces, about details. If he said he recognized someone, he did.
