I had started wandering the packhouse late at night when sleep wouldn't come. The halls had grown familiar in a way that surprised me, almost as comfortable as the narrow layout of my apartment back in the city.
Tonight my feet carried me down the second-floor hallway again, past the quiet doors. I stopped in front of the room that was always left slightly ajar.
Reid's room.
This time I didn't just look through the gap. I pushed the door open a little farther and stepped inside.
The room had that particular quality I had noticed before, like someone had stepped out for a short errand and would be back any minute. The bed was made neatly, the pillows arranged just so.
