The woman at the front desk seemed to perk up more when she returned. Callas could tell that Reed was uncomfortable with the way she was speaking to him, especially the way she was looking at him. He awkwardly took a piece of paper from her when they left to go to the elevator, Reed opened the folded paper up and Callas could see a few numbers jotted down with a love heart next to the name 'Amy'. He scrunched it up and shoved it in his pocket, but Callas knew he wanted to throw it away immediately, or burn it at least. He was never one who liked it when he was advanced on, for some reason it made him uncomfortable. Callas assumed it was because he liked to be traditional.

When they made it to the elevator, Reed pressed the button and ran his hand through his messy, curly hair, his fingers getting caught in the knots. As they stepped in, Callas watched a nurse roll one of the patients out on a wheelchair, the man smiled kindly at Callas before he continued to walk down, talking to the old man in the chair. She stepped in and turned around, facing the doors, watching them close. Reed noticed her hood still up and yanked it down, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to his warm body as they watched the number on the small screen above the doors count up.

The doors opened to one of the floors, they walked out and looked at the side on the wall telling them where the room would be. Callas didn't like hospitals. They always freaked her out knowing that people might never leave the building or their room, dying in the same spot that they see day in and day out. She shuddered. She quickened her steps, making sure to keep up with Reed, who was looking around trying to find the room number. He turned down a corridor abruptly, causing Callas to let out a yelp, backing up to follow him. The entire building was like a maze, each turn looked the same as the last one and it was impossible to navigate.

It wasn't long before Reed gave up and asked one of the nurses. She brought them to one of the rooms and smiled lightly before leaving to go back to what she was doing before. Reed turned around to Callas and offered her a small smile. He turned back and knocked on the door. A man—who Callas could only assume was Mr Blanchard—opened the door, dark bags under his eyes, a few cuts and bruises littered his skin as he stepped aside to allow them to enter. Callas walked in slowly, looking around the room before her eyes landed on Henry. She heard Mr Blanchard ask to speak to Reed outside, allowing Callas and Henry to be alone to talk.

Henry was hooked up to a few machines, some of which Callas had never seen before, or knew the purpose of them. He had an IV drip in his left arm, a pulse oximeter was attached to his forefinger on his right hand. Instead of a shirt, he had bandages wrapped around his torso. He had a few cuts on his face and a sad look plastered across it as well. He let out a sigh, struggling to sit up as she got closer to him. This definitely wasn't food poisoning. Callas opened her mouth to speak, but, evidently, nothing came out.

"C—"

Callas stepped forward and wrapped her arms gently around his neck, trying to hug him. Henry relaxed and tried to wrap his arms around her waist, struggling as the wires stopped his arms from going very far. She pulled back and looked at him, frowning. He shook his head and motioned to the seat behind her. She looked back, dragging it closer, sitting on it before turning to look back at him. The food tray next to him, on the wheeling desk, had half eaten food and some bloodied tissues. She looked back over to him.

"I had a few nose bleeds." He shrugged, looking from the tissues to her.

"I thought you had food poisoning? That's what you told me."

Henry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't want you to worry."

"Henry," Callas started in a soft voice. "I'm going to worry regardless of what you tell me. You're my best friend, I'm not going to just forget that you're not okay." She shook her head.

"I wanted to tell you, but I wasn't sure if I was allowed."

"What do you mean?"

Henry looked to the door of the room then back to her. "It's an open investigation, I didn't think that the police would have wanted me to say anything if I didn't know the facts—or at least if they didn't know them. I'm sorry that I scared you, I really didn't mean to," he told her, sadly.

"Are you allowed to tell me now?"

Henry opened his mouth, an uncomfortable expression clouded his face, he closed his mouth and looked down to the white bandages around his torso. "I don't think I can. Your brother was assigned to my case. If you can even call it that."

"Okay, it's okay. I don't have to know."

"But I want you to know, I don't want to keep secrets from you."

"It's okay to have a few secrets," Callas replied.

It looked like something switched inside of Henry like this new-found information was relieving to hear. Henry reached over to grab a cup of water, but Callas assumed that he moved wrong as he winced in pain and clutched his stomach, or at least tried to with the bandages wrapped around it. Callas went to go and get help but he called out to her, telling her that it was fine. She nodded her head, not wanting to upset him, and walked around the other side of the bed, pushing the tray away slightly before bringing back as she moved around it.

"What are you—?"

Henry stopped talking when he watched Callas pour the water in the cup for him before handing it over. He took it and smiled faintly, drinking the cold water. He gave her a nod and she placed the cup back down on the tray, moving to sit on the side of the bed. Callas pointed to the bandages, the side was slightly stained red, with yellow around the side of the stain, it didn't look good from where she was standing, but it didn't look like it was fresh blood either.

"Can you tell me what happened here?"

Henry glanced at his side. "I broke a few ribs." He shrugged.

Callas's eyes widened. "What?" She yelled loudly, covering her mouth quickly as they both glanced at the door, wanting to keep quiet and not draw attention to themselves. Henry didn't want his dad to walk in and Callas didn't want Reed to walk in, they'd just make it uncomfortable and awkward. Callas turned back and spoke quieter this time, "What? Why did you say that like it was a paper cut?"

"I'm on a lot of pain medication, I'm also in hospital. So, if anything does go wrong, it's not like I have to go far to get help."

"Why does it look infected? Or look like you have an infection?" She asked as he leaned closer, looking at it.

"One of my ribs broke and pierced my skin," he told her, Callas sat back up straighter. "I don't know what happened but it got infected, maybe it was the germs in this place that got in the wound before I was treated."

"That's gross," Callas mumbled.

Henry laughed lightly, wincing in pain more. "I shouldn't be laughing."

"Well, nothing was funny. You're just crazy." She smiled and shook her head.

"Possibly."

Callas was about to talk when Reed and Mr Blanchard walked in. Reed smiled at her and walked to stand behind her, looking down at Henry. Callas remembered that this was the first time that either of them had met each other. "Uh, Henry, this is my brother Reed. Reed, this is Henry."

Reed stuck his arm out. "It's, uh, nice to meet you, even if it's not under the best circumstances."

"You too." Henry nodded, shaking Reed's hand. "Do you have a fever?" Henry asked randomly.

"No?" Reed glanced at Callas then back to Henry. "Why?"

"Your hand is just really warm." Henry looked rather confused, probably unsure of why he even mentioned it to begin with.

Mr Blanchard cleared his throat. "Reed and I are just going to discuss a few things, maybe get some food in the canteen for the both of you." He placed his hand on Henry's shoulder, gently squeezing it. "We'll be up later." Mr Blanchard moved his hand from Henry's shoulder and rested it on his head, messing his hair up slightly before turning to Callas. "It was nice to finally meet you, even if it wasn't for long." He smiled kindly.

"You too, Mr Blanchard." She nodded at him.

Reed placed a kiss on the top of Callas's head before he walked out with Mr Blanchard. Henry waited until the door was closed. "I'll give it a minute."

"Huh?" Callas looked at him weirdly.

"Until I start talking," he whispered. Callas gave him an odd look. She wasn't sure what he meant by that. Henry continued to stare at the door until two minutes had passed on the clock. "Okay," he said. "I think I can tell you now."

"Tell me what?"

"What happened."

"But I thought you said—?"

"My dad could hear us, I'm sure both of them could. The walls aren't very thick," he explained. "You're bound to find out sooner or later anyway." He shrugged.

Callas nodded, seemingly understanding what he meant. Of course, the walls wouldn't have been thick enough to be sound proof. Not only that but the way Reed had been hearing things lately, she was sure that he would have heard them talking. It made sense that Henry would have been cautious, he had been in the hospital for a couple of days, he would have known that sound travels easily. Callas picked the fraying fabric of Henry's blanket.

"So," she started. "Do you know what happened?"

"Not really." He shook his head. Callas's shoulders dropped. If he didn't know then why would he tell her that he'd talk about it? "I mean, not everything," he corrected himself. "We were at dinner, and my dad seemed a bit on edge like he had just found that his favourite team had lost a big game," Henry explained. "It wasn't until we were almost home when he told me my brother was back."

"Your brother? I didn't know you had a brother."

Henry shrugged. "My dad doesn't like talking about him. Neither of my parents did when they were together. It was like he was a banned subject between the two of them, so I never asked."

"Don't you think that's a bit weird?"

"From what I remembered, he wasn't all that sane." He had a pained expression on his face like he was remembering a bad memory. "He was almost on a different planet half the time. Will wasn't like a normal person, I don't think he is still. But if my dad is right, and he's back, this isn't going to be the last time something bad happens. It's going to happen again, but much worse."