Albert's eyes opened at dawn.
I had not slept. Could not sleep knowing he might stop breathing while I was not watching. For six hours I sat beside him, counting his heartbeats, memorizing the rise and fall of his chest.
"You look terrible," he said, voice rough.
"You look like you got hit by a grenade. Oh wait, you did." I leaned forward, checking his bandages for fresh blood. "How do you feel?"
"Like I got shot and blown up in the same night." He tried to sit up and immediately gasped in pain. "Jesus Christ."
"The doctor said no movement for twenty-four hours. It has been eighteen. Lie down before you rip your stitches."
"Cannot. Meeting tonight." He pushed himself upright despite my protests, teeth gritted. "Knox needs me there."
"Knox needs you alive. There is a difference."
"E
