Nicholas’s POV
Morning arrives in shades of gray that seep through the blinds and settle over everything like damp ash. I haven’t moved from the floor since the phone hit the wall.
My back is pressed against the baseboard, legs drawn up, arms wrapped around them as though holding myself together might keep the rest of me from coming apart.
The room smells faintly of yesterday’s coffee and the metallic bite of panic that has been coating my tongue all night.
The cracked screen lights up again just after seven. A single new message. I crawl across the carpet to retrieve the phone because standing feels like a commitment I’m not ready to make.
**Sera:** Can you come to the hospital? Room 412. We need to talk.
I sit there for a long time staring at those nine words until they blur. My
