Stacey came to a world blanketed in darkness, the absence of light signaling the depth of night. Conor was there, a steady presence by her side.
He was parked in a chair, his legs crossed, a laptop perched on his thighs, and a file clutched in his grasp.
Surprise played across her features.
He hadn't left after all?
"Feel better?" Conor's voice was soft.
After the effects of the medication wore off, Stacey regained her senses.
Her shoulder was in unbearable pain.
She locked eyes with Conor, giving a slight nod.
"Do you want a drink, something to eat, or go to the bathroom?" Conor's lips curved slightly, "I can carry you."
Stacey was helpless.
She was injured, not incapacitated.
Gripping her hospital gown, she ordered, "Hey, look away."
Conor's gaze lingered on her.
"Turn aroun
