find me in the dark, what wealth?
take all I own, leave me sick with myself
-corbin

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                                     "—SEEMS STABLE. I can't say he's lucky, he must've been in a lot of pain for a long time." A pause. Shuffling around. "Look, Dawson. We're mates, so I'm going to be damned honest with you here. You can't keep tossing random made up shit at the authorities, then casually throwing your wife's money on top so they'd keep their traps shut about it. It's—"

    The voices come to a halt as soon as I attempt to flutter my eyes open. I hear myself grumbling something about needing water. The doctor comes over to speak to me, his voice coaxing and slimy in my eardrums. He smells like antiseptic and target-bought perfume and adultery.

    But I can't hear a word. All I can do is hold my father's gaze, follow his two beast eyes as he slowly shakes his head at me from across the room.

    And yet, he isn't furious, isn't raging or about to blow up, for once.

    He looks at me, terrified.

    Not for me, but of me.