I'm having a bad day. And writing. My hero, Noah, is, coincidentally, also having a bad day. He did what I don't intend to do: he just quit. Not his whole career, just an assignment that he disagreed with. Vehemently. And he's about to get himself shot.
Shh...he doesn't know that yet, though. But that's ok. By the time he comes around, still groggy from the pain meds, he will have more problems to worry about. And a slightly new perspective on things--traumatic injuries and drugs will do that to you. Heck, even the not-so-intense meds that I was given after both of my c-sections made me fuzzybrained. And I remember some rather disturbing dreams after getting my wisdom teeth out, too.
That ought to make his search for Jessica fun to coordinate.But enough about that. If I keep talking like this, soon Noah's boss will be on to him (and her), and will spill the beans to someone else (someone not yet to be named, but who has a stake in the outcome) who might just do something drastic. Like try to have her killed. Him too. Unless that someone already did try to have him killed. He was just shot, you know.