CLOVER'S POV:
The door handle is slick in my hands. I don't know what is waiting for me inside the hospital room. Breathing in and out, I try to pull myself together.
Jett pats me on the back, pushing me forward slightly.
My heart is drumming in my chest as I try to rationalise everything. He's okay, I tell myself. He's just asleep.
Jett's hand covers mine on the door handle, pulling it down. Without his help, I'd probably stand here for an hour or something stupid, waiting for the courage to open the blasted door.
Just inside the room, I see my brother. I have to remind myself that he's not dead. I've never seen my brother so still. He's pale too.
Jett is holding my hand and he gives it a reassuring squeeze as he leads me into the room. My mum is sat on a rickety looking chair next
