Micah stepped out of the hospital room slowly, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft sound that still made several heads turn. His shoulders were slightly hunched, as if the air itself had grown heavy and settled on his back. The bright hallway lights washed the color from his already pale face, and the faint crease between his brows made him look older than usual, almost lost. One hand stayed in the pocket of his hoodie, fingers curled tight, while the other brushed along the wall for balance. His steps were uneven. His right foot dragged just a little, the limp subtle but stubborn.
He didn't look at anyone.
