Christopher woke feeling as though he had not slept at all.
He lay on his back for a while, staring at the ceiling of his room in the Whitesun Hotel. Morning light slipped through a gap in the curtains, but he made no effort to get up.
His body was tired. That was nothing new.
This exhaustion went deeper.
The rescue had only lasted a night, and Christopher had not even crossed the water with Ryan, Rachel, and Lucy. He had waited on the shore. He had helped when the boat came back. Then he had argued with Sydney and done what Ryan had asked him to do.
That was all.
Yet the thought of standing up felt difficult.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the boat returning without Ryan. Rachel's face. Mei clutching Ryan's jacket. Sydney looking across the water as though she could force him to appear.
Then he heard his own voice telling Sydney not to go after him.
Christopher turned onto his side and shut his eyes.
"Damn it."
Ryan was alive.
He had to start there.
