Mark smiled faintly, too tired to respond beyond that.
His eyelids, which he had been struggling to keep open, started growing heavier and heavier, and the warmth of the bed was slowly pulling him toward sleep.
But then…
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Three knocks at the door yanked him abruptly from the edge of sleep.
"…Huh?" he murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep. "Who is it?"
But there was no answer, only the knocks sounding once more from the other side of the door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Mark let out a groan and rubbed his face with one hand.
The last thing he wanted in that moment was to get up from the most comfortable bed he had felt in days.
But whoever was on the other side didn't seem willing to give up.
"Coming, coming…" he said, getting up from the bed.
And the moment he stood up, Mark felt something wasn't right.
He couldn't say exactly what it was, but the atmosphere felt heavier than when he had lain down.
