*Five Days Later*

Christmas arrived quietly, without bells or laughter, without warmth. It crept into the hospital ward like an uninvited guest, dressed in white walls and the steady beep of machines.

Thalia sat beside Jay’s bed, unconscious.

The IV drip hung above him, clear liquid flowing steadily into his veins. His face looked thinner than she remembered, his lips pale, lashes resting too softly against his cheeks. He had barely spoken since Tracey died, barely eaten, barely ...