The sound of his voice struck me harder than I expected. Damaged, dry, barely audible—and still his.
“I know,” Tessa said. “Your throat will be sore for a while.”
He lifted his right hand toward his head, but she intercepted it before he touched the bandage.
“You had surgery. Try not to pull at anything.”
His eye found me.
I smiled, though my face had forgotten how.
“You gave us a scare.”
He studied me with grave concentration.
I waited.
His lips parted.
“Who?”
One syllable.
It cut cleanly.
Tessa answered before I could. “This is Reid. He’s been here with you.”
Noah looked at me again.
Nothing changed in his face.
“Do you know where you are?” she asked.
His brow furrowed. “Hospital.”
“That’s right.”
He closed his eye.
“Head.”
“Your head hurts?”
A tiny nod.
Tessa lowered the lights and gave medication through his line. Within minutes, he slept.
I remained standing.
She drew the blanket higher over him. “Confusion is expected.”
“He asked who I was.”
“I heard.”
“He didn’t know me.”
“He’s only just beginning to orient. Don’t decide what that means yet.”
