68
Adam startled awake. He’d been dreaming—a nightmare of crashing metal and dark woods—but now he was in a dark room, and someone was watching him.
“It’s okay, son. It’s me.” Harlan.
Adam blinked and shielded his eyes when the older man switched on the light next to the bed, then winced as he inadvertently tugged on his IV.
“You look like s**t,” Harlan said.
“You came here to tell me that?” Adam asked, raising the bed for company.
“No. I came here because you won’t talk to Iris and JJ. Leastways, not about anything that matters. And I don’t have a phone.”
But Jim did. Harlan could have called from Jim’s. Adam looked at the clock next to the bed. “It’s almost midnight.”
“I know. I had to be extra charming to the night nurse.” Harlan waggled his eyebrows, but Adam wasn’t biting. “Lo
