Knox POV
It’s quieter out here. No arguing. No boxes with ears and fingers in them. No Charlotte throwing people against walls like she owns the damn hospital. Just silence, and the hum of bad lighting overhead.
I sit on the floor, my back pressed against the wall, eyes fixed on the ticking clock above the nurse’s station. Time crawls like it’s deliberately mocking me. Every second feels stretched out, thin and cruel, like it knows what I’m waiting for and wants to drag it out as long as possible.
I try not to think about what she looked like, lying in that tub. Try not to picture the bruises or the blood that wouldn’t stop, or the way her chest moved so faintly I wasn’t sure she was breathing at all. My fingers still feel the heat of her skin, what little warmth there was, and it’s the
