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“That sentence is not helping.” He reaches toward me.

I lean out of reach. “Don’t!”

William stops, hand suspended between us. “Reef.”

“Just because I’m a bunny,” I say flatly, “don’t think I won’t delete an NPC, William.”

He freezes, and for a moment, only the beep of Kain’s monitor fills the room.

William lets his hand fall.

For several seconds, neither of us moves.

“If you don’t have a magic elixir to wake up my Player,” I say, “you should leave now.”

“I’m not leaving you alone like this.”

“I didn’t ask you to leave me alone.” My shoulders pull tight. “I asked you to leave me with Kain.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.” William exhales through his nose. “He can’t tell you what to do right now, Reef.”

“Obviously.”

“So let somebody else help you.”

I scoot the rigid, plastic chair closer to Kain’s bed. “I don’t want somebody else.”

William pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know you don’t.”

I thread my arm through the bed railing, anchoring myself in place. “Then stop trying to take me away from Kain.”

William gestures toward the door. “I’m asking you to walk twenty feet down a hallway.”

“And I said no.”

We glare at each other.

He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Why are all the Omegas in our group so fucked up? First Lev tries to kill me for helping, and now you.”

“Sounds like your help is the common denominator,” I point out. “Maybe you should stop.”

“Fine! Be on standby, or whatever!” He flings one hand into the air, then jabs a finger toward the door. “I’m going to be right outside. If you decide you need food, water, somebody to yell at, or anything else, you tell me.”

“Okay.”

His hand closes around the door handle, but he doesn’t open it.

“What?”

He hesitates. “Nothing. I’ll be outside.”

Another second passes.

Then he leaves.

The door shuts behind him, leaving only the hum of the fluorescent lights, the beep of the machines, and the quiet rise and fall of Kain’s breathing.

It’s a song of sorts, but the rhythm is all wrong.