The heavy ceramic mug fell to the tile floor. Or, maybe it was the medicine cabinet door slamming into the wall. I couldn't tell through the thick wood of the bedroom. Just a sudden, ugly thud, the sharp rattle of glass, and then quiet too deep, too fast.
I froze on the edge of the bed, one sock half-on, listening. "Julian?"
I was already moving, one bare heel and one sock-clad foot slapping against the tiled floor. The bathroom door was half open. I pushed it the rest of the way.
He lay on the floor with his back against the tub. One hand pushed against the tile, as if he were trying to get up but lacked the strength. The collar of his shirt was soaked through. His skin had gone the colour of wet ash.
"Julian." I dropped to my knees beside him. "Hey, look at me."
"I'm fine." His voi
