The musty scent of hay clung to Jian's nose as he lay still on the barn floor, eyes wide open, staring at the wooden rafters above. They creaked gently in the night breeze, but it wasn't the sound that kept him awake.
It was everything else.
His body was exhausted, scraped and bruised. His chest ached from crying earlier. But his mind—his mind wouldn't stop.
Where was his grandpa now?
Was he safe?
Was he even alive?
Beside him, Nansich mumbled in his sleep and curled further into the hay pile, the boy's face twitching with the aftershocks of the day. Jian glanced at him. Nansich had been through hell too. They both had.
A sudden, shrill blare ripped through the night.
Bwaaaaaaahhhhhh—
The city-wide emergency siren.
Jian's body tensed. Even in his sleep, Nansich trembled and made a small noise of fear. Jian reached over, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.
"It's okay," he whispered. "Sleep."
Nansich calmed, breathing slowly evening out again.
