277 - From the ashes: Life or friendship?

In an empty hotel room, Michael Harsh paced back and forth, his face laden with anxiety.

Three days. Three days without any more news after he had failed to contact the unknown number again.

Michael Harsh was feeling as if he was about to burn from the very air he was breathing itself.

After a few more rounds, he lowered his head to his phone, again. The screen was dark, leaving him too uncertain, so he turned it on, but the result didn't change, as it had nothing to do with Schrödinger and his cat.

His heart clenched, but he could only let go. He already had his life deep in a shit hole, and he could not take any more blows, even more so if he wanted to climb back out of it… one day.

He breathed in deeply. His heart, which had lost its vigor, was forced to jump back to life, because he might still have hope, as flimsy as it was, but if what he had been told was true, he would have to wait for death.