Iyisha kept her eyes on the door as she finished the last of her cold food, chewing slow, listening more than eating. The sounds outside hadn't stopped. Something dragged across the floor in the hallway. A hand brushed the door, then slid away. A low groan followed, uneven, close, then farther again.
The door held.
For now.
She swallowed and wiped her fingers on her pants, setting the empty container beside her.
Across the room, Lance had already finished. Too fast. He leaned back onto the cot, one arm over his eyes for a second before letting it drop. His chest still rose a little too hard, but the rhythm was better.
Still pale, but breathing fine.
Iyisha watched him for a second longer than she meant to.
Marybeth sat near him, not speaking, her body angled toward him without making it obvious. Close enough.
Iyisha looked away.
Toward the doorway that led to the next room.
Malcolm and Aljun were in there.
