Why do things always seem to get better and then get worse?
I met Ivory outside. She was finally able to look me in the eye. And she was about to talk to me, too. I could tell.
And then she looked over my shoulder and her eyes went wide. I turned and looked and saw it: there was a man sitting on the ground outside the hostel. Then I realized he wasn't sitting -- he was slumped, his eyes closed. Unconscious.
Ivory rushed over to check on him. He looked to be in his late twenties, dark brown hair. He looked shabby, like he hadn't shaved or changed his clothes in days, maybe weeks. Definitely a runner, by the looks of it. His arm and shoulder were also in a cast and sling.
Ivory had me help pick him up and bring him inside. We got him on one of the beds and Ivory checked him over -- plenty of scars, even a nasty one on his back, but they were all healed over. She said he had probably collapsed from sheer exhaustion.
So good news: she's talking to me again. Bad news: it was all medically related.
Well, you take the good with the bad, I guess.
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