I glance down at Erick, still curled on the floor, tears soaking into the collar of his shirt.
“What’s your son’s name?” I ask gently.
He startles, jerks upright like I’d slapped him, blinking rapidly before answering, “Christopher.”
His voice cracks on the name.
“He’s… he’s not the same. Something’s missing. You can see it in his eyes. When he woke up, he didn’t cry, didn’t ask for his mum. He just… started laughing. And then he said things—horrible things I didn’t even know he knew. Like every curse word he’s ever heard came out all at once.”
He swallows shakily, breath hitching.
“He blamed me for his death. Screamed it at me. Said I deserved it. Said… he was glad I watched.”
His sobs return full-force, and guilt slams into me.
I kneel beside him, gripping his face in my hands, p
