It’s been about a week. Mostly a blur, but Miles can mostly keep the time together.

It’s been about a week since you were admitted to the psych ward.

He hasn’t been looking forward to it, seeing you like that, after what happened. He misses you, but it’s so painful.

After a long train ride, he made his way to the hospital. The visiting hours are from 9 to 4, and he made it there at about 8:40.

Now he sits meekly in a bare visiting room, jolting when he hears the glass door sliding open.