All night, Emmett tossed and turned, woke and slept in fits, and by the time the sky lightened very slightly, the indigo dawn of pre-twilight seeping in across the snow like badly mixed watercolours, he was wrapped up in all of his blankets, curled into the corner of his bedroom. Emmett was tired, but every time he closed his eyes to sleep, all he could hear were Jian’s wretched sobs, the memory overlapping the sadness he had felt emanating from the boy’s room the night Zeke had stayed over. Com