She opened her eyes, blinked a few times to clear her vision and discovered she was in a hospital bed with monitors blinking back at her with green wavy lines and a soft, but monotonous beep beep beep droning in her ears. She turned her head to her left and smiled when she saw the beefy mass of Turner sitting in a chair beside her bed. His chin was resting on his breastbone, eyes closed, sleeping. His naturally curly black hair with the gray streaks around the temples looked as if it hadn’t been combed in days. Nor had he shaved in days as well. There was a thick stubble of salt and pepper covering most of his face. Even his mustache, which he kept meticulously trimmed, had not seen a pair of clippers for some time.
“Well, hello big boy,” she whispered hoarsely, finding it surprisingly di
