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Chapter 57

“It won’t happen again,” he vowed, balling up the sketches of Shaun. Angrily, he tossed them into the wastebasket, on top of the one of Merrick. “I won’t take the chance. I can’t. It would kill me if it happened again.”

Turning off the lamp, he grabbed the towel and washcloth, stalking down to the bathroom, ignoring the pain in his ankle. He stripped, showered—as hot as he could stand it—finger-brushed his teeth, since he didn’t have paste or a toothbrush, then put on the sweatpants and returned to his room.

Easing himself down onto the bed, he stared blindly up at the ceiling—and the memory of the last days with Merrick assaulted him. Tears streaked his face and then he cried until, finally, he fell asleep.

* * * *

“Bad night?” Miss Gina asked Ryan with compassion when he came down to breakfast Sunday morning.