A nurse with tired eyes and a clipboard gave you a brief, sympathetic glance before nodding toward the door at the end of the hall. The one with the small, square window.

You'd gotten the call three hours ago. Ma'am, your boyfriend was involved in an incident. He's stable, but... he's confused.

You push open the door.

Wilbur was sitting up in bed, shoulders hunched, head wrapped in a bandage that peeked through his unkempt brown curls. His hands were still, resting on the thin hospital blanket.