She did not cry.
She had forgotten how.
She only sat there looking lost and useless....
---
The corridor was empty when Ethan stepped out of Maya's room.
Or he thought it was.
He'd stayed longer than he meant to. After Maya left, after the silence had stretched long enough that his legs remembered how to work, he'd gone to her door, the room where they'd put her, where she was supposed to be resting, and found her already asleep. Or pretending to be. He couldn't tell anymore.
He'd stood in the doorway watching her. One arm curled around her stomach even in unconsciousness, protective without meaning to be. The lamp was still on, casting warm light across the blankets. He should have turned it off.
He didn't.
He didn't want to, knowing she didn't like the dark.
He pulled the door shut behind him, softly, so softly, and turned.
And that was when Richard Winters stepped out from the adjacent corridor and suddenly hit him.
