Henry's POV
Since Kenny's second visit, four months had gone by.
I am now inside Patrick and Harry's room every night, awaiting Kenny—not only at times when I cannot sleep.
The truth is, I can't sleep in general, nodding off during lessons instead.
As it turned out, even an upgraded body needs sleep—perhaps not as often, but maybe more desperately than normal humans, due to the overwhelming amount of energy that is processed inside us.
I opened the door and sat on the leather seat that I had damaged last time, now replaced with a new one, already sick of the other presence in the room.
"You can't sleep?" Dr. Lawrence asked.
I didn't answer her.
"You look horrible." She continued from behind her desk, sipping coffee that filled the room with its aroma, making my stomach churn.
She sighed.
"I will tell you again: I don't know where my father or grandfather is. It's not as if I'm hiding anything from you on purpose. I am still trying to help both of you."
