#Chapter 88: Delirious

Rowena It felt like time had slowed once those doors slid open. My father and I stood frozen in that doorway for a moment that seemed like an eternity, neither of us prepared to step in and find out what had become of Eric. But when the guards both gestured for us to enter and shot us impatient looks, we finally exchanged glances and stepped over the threshold. The first thing I was met with was the smell: antiseptic mixed with perspiration, the kind of musk that only came about when someone had a high fever. I knew that smell well; I had learned to recognize it during my time as a combat management intern. The second thing I noticed was the dark form lying on the bed. Eric’s form. He was strapped down, leather restraints tightly binding his wrists and ankles to the hospital cot. A thin sheet must have been draped over him at some point, but it had fallen and was now laying in a heap on the floor. The more I slowly approached, the more I could see it