Chapter Forty Seven
The food sat half-eaten between them, cooling into congealed lumps nobody had the stomach to finish. The laughter had died fast — snuffed out like a cheap candle in a hurricane. Evan sat stiff in his chair, picking at the corner of a napkin until it shredded under his nails. He hated this. Hated how small he felt. How useless. How f*****g helpless. Chloe sat by Leia's bed, plastic fork dangling from limp fingers, her dinner forgotten on the tray beside her. Ryan hovered behind her, a half-hearted plate in hand, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge. Owen leaned against the window ledge, arms crossed, shoulders tense, a wolf barely holding onto its skin. Evan chewed the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. The beeping of the heart monitor was the loudest thing in
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