Because he’d known the sort of loss that sent a man spiraling into nothingness as surely as if he’d been dropped out of the sky. He’d felt the wind of the abyss whistling behind him. And so of course he was afraid. Because he was staring down yet another loss. But that didn’t mean he was a coward. When he returned to his room he still didn’t sleep. For he knew what he would do next, and soon. And no man slept the night before that sort of thing.
