He stepped off the bus with the others and headed toward the warehouse like he belonged there, shoulders squared, stride practiced. Still, something wasn’t right. Up close, I could see it in his face. The heaviness around his eyes. The way his focus lagged half a second behind the world, like he hadn’t fully arrived yet. He looked exhausted in a way sleep didn’t fix.
Like someone who’d been awake without being aware of it. I stepped out of the cruiser. As I crossed the yard, he saw me. Just a flicker of recognition—nothing dramatic—but enough. His head snapped down, shoulders tightening, and without a word he turned sharply and disappeared back through the warehouse doors. “Hey!” I called. He didn’t stop.