A low buzzing filled the room, constant and inescapable, like electricity trapped inside the walls.
Henry’s eyes fluttered open.
The ceiling above him was white and unfamiliar, too close, with no visible corners to orient himself. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was. Then he tried to move.
Metal clinked.
His wrists were secured tightly to the bed. His ankles too. Four-point restraints, even and deliberate, applied by someone who had done this many times before. Panic surged immediately, sharp and disorienting. “Cade? Where are you?” he croaked. His throat was dry, his tongue heavy, his words slurred by whatever they had given him.
A nurse stepped into his line of sight, her expression calm to the point of neutrality. She did not rush, did not startle, did not soften.
“Henry,” s
