Ryan leaped out of bed.
He crossed to the door and pushed it shut. A bit harder than he had meant to, the latch catching with a sharp click. He stood with his hand still on the handle, breathing.
The corridor beyond was silent.
He let go slowly.
I closed it last night. He was sure of it.
He stood in the middle of his room for a moment, looking at nothing in particular, the early dark still heavy outside the window. His thoughts were moving too fast for this hour.
He wanted to slow them down.
He crossed to the window and looked out at the inner ward below. It was as empty as before, the torches were still burning, the garden still a dark mass travelling the center of the ward. He couldn't see movement anywhere.
He turned from the window.
He lowered himself to the floor beside the bed. The boards were cool even through his clothes. He rested his back against the front of the bed, legs folded upon each other, hands loose on his thighs.
Breath in.
Out.
