Chapter 80

Edwin found a chair, and as soon as he sat down, his eyes began to droop. He needed to keep himself awake. At least until he had a chance to speak to Carson. Then he could find a corner somewhere and curl up. There were weights tied to his ears and his eyelids, and they dragged his head down. Every time he felt his chin touch his chest, he jerked up again, like a mostly broken marionette.

The twelfth or thirteenth time he jerked himself awake, he saw the doctor—what was his name?—leave Carson’s room. He looked to be several miles away, like a man walking past the narrow opening of a very long tunnel. Edwin forced himself to his feet, ignoring the dark lines around his vision, and stumbled his way back to Carson’s room. One short conversation. That was all he needed. Then he could let himself sleep.

“You really do look like shit,” Carson greeted.

“You’re not looking so hot yourself.”

“Dr. Simpson said I can go home tomorrow.”

Edwin smiled. “That’s good.”