***VERA***

The ceiling wasn’t supposed to feel this close. I lay there staring at it, my legs shaking restlessly against the mattress as if the movement alone could quiet the panic building up in my chest. Conry’s face kept drifting in and out of my mind—pale, tired, forcing a smile even though it clearly hurt him.

Is he okay?

Is he going to remain okay?

A rugged breath slipped out of me, uneven. My hands dragged over my face before I pushed myself upright, the restless energy too ...