The old man continued to weep.
It wasn't quiet, either. He sobbed like something inside him had split open, his frail body rocking back and forth. Saliva ran down his chin.
"This isn't..." Jimmy swallowed, adjusting his glasses. "He's never done this before. Not once since I've been here. He's never… wept."
Adam stood at the observation window, arms at his sides… and there was still nothing on his face. Whatever Patient 6 had pulled from Adam's skull, whatever gallery of horrors the old man's ability had forced him to walk through, Adam showed none of it.
Jimmy stared at Adam. The absence of expression was almost worse than grief would've been. If Patient 6 was breaking apart from what he'd seen in there, then what exactly lived inside this kid's head?
Adam turned from the window.
"He's probably just scared," Adam said. "Probably thinks we're going to experiment on him."
He looked down at the floor for a moment… and then walked away.
