Chapter 12
Darren knew his optimism was unwarranted when they reached London Waterloo train station on Sunday morning, and the noisy chaos sounded as though it were coming from underwater. Thick, unwieldy, and not altogether there. He felt almost dizzy—or rather, detached to the point that he felt adrift enough to mistake it for dizzy. As though every step sent him reeling, his eyes fractionally out of focus and his feet slipping on a non-slip floor. Like watching the footage from a camera with which someone had been running, jerky and disjointed. He snapped his fingers absently and couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t hear it.
This wasn’t a maybe.
He took a deep breath, and let Jayden guide him through the station, almost as though he were blind or drunk. Darren hated this loss of functionality—
