Emile knocked on the door twice before easing it open just enough to peek inside. "Are you ready?"
Micah sat on the edge of the bed, buttoning up the shirt Emile had brought him. The hospital gown lay discarded in a corner. He had managed to change into plain pants and a loose shirt, but his movements were slow, his expression vacant.
"Give me a mask and a cap," Micah muttered, his voice flat.
Emile raised a brow but didn't comment right away. Micah's expression had turned dark after Darcy left the hospital. He hadn't even let Clyde help him change.
The doctor had already been in to examine him one last time, giving him the clear to leave.
Throughout it all, Micah was absent-minded, looking as if he were a million miles away. His mind was occupied with Darcy. Since last night, Darcy's manner had shifted. He had spoken differently, avoided eye contact this morning, then slipped away like he couldn't bear to stay.
