Chapter 3

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Flashback to the present

Henry ran his hand over the scar, watching himself in the closet's mirror. He sighed and threw his shirt in the dirty laundry and grabbed his pajamas.

A few minutes later, Henry ripped back the covers of his bed and slid inside. Pulling the comforter up to his chin, he glanced around his room, a habit he'd picked up after the weeks of nightmares that followed Charlie's death. He still had nightmares most nights, which caused him to drink more because the more he drinks, the less likely he is to dream.

He pulled his glasses off his nose and set them on the bedside table, flicking the lamp off while his hand was next to it. Closing his eyes, he sighed, praying that no nightmares would bother him tonight.

And he fell asleep.

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