Chapter 19 Coldness Of Debts

• The sight was profoundly unsettling. Alexander Sterling, brought to tears not by physical agony, but by the delayed comprehension of the pain he’d inflicted. Vance, observing from the corner, shifted uncomfortably. Thorne focused intently on a monitor, his professional mask slipping slightly to reveal discomfort.
• The moment passed, swallowed by another wave of tremors. When it subsided, he was exhausted, hollowed out, but his eyes, when they found mine again, held a terrifying vulnerability.
• "I dream of it," he whispered, his voice raw. "The ditch. But… different. I’m you. I feel the rain. The cold metal cutting my hands. The… the weight of my body. The fear. And then… the sharp, deep burn when the needle goes in my arm. The dizziness. The weakness creeping in as my blood flows out. The terror… not just of dying… but of what saving me will cost me." He shuddered. "It’s the most real thing. More real than… than this." He gestured weakly at the tent, the IV, his own failing body. "Is that… is that how it felt?"