Chapter 18
The hospital sheets were not very flattering for Carson’s complexion. Neither were the bandages around his head and arms. They made him look a sort of ashen grey, like the color had been leeched from his skin. The dark shade of his hair and eyelashes didn’t help matters. In fact, there was such a dark contrast between his hair and his skin that Edwin could count each lash and, later, each whisker easily. He sat in a chair next to the bed and counted every hair on Carson’s head, muttering prayers at the same time, trying to reach a god, any god, who could help.
The doctors reassured him that Carson was not seriously injured. He had a concussion, but he would wake up soon, and when he did, he wouldn’t suffer any long-term problems. Edwin believed them. They all seemed like compe
