[He doesn't quite flinch at the slammed door, but his brow creases as it throbs. Every bone feels crushed. His neck feels broken. His lungs feel punctured.
They are not. They are not.
He draws a slow breath.]
Yes.
[He doesn't bother raising his voice loud. She will hear.]
spam
They are not. They are not.
He draws a slow breath.]
Yes.
[He doesn't bother raising his voice loud. She will hear.]