Connor could barely breathe. The funeral had been a few days ago now, but he hadn’t left his room since they’d got back. He was still in the dress shirt and pants from the day. His eyes were red raw, but he had no more tears left to cry now - he’d cried almost non-stop since the day Olivia had passed.
At the knock his head snapped up, eyes wide, wild and unseeing. The world was nothing but a disjointed mess on a good day, colours and words and people not quite adding up, but Connor hadn’t had a good day in a while. “J-Jo?”
Jodie leaned against the door, having a feeling that she was probably going to be standing there for a while. “Yeah, it’s me, Connor.” She paused for a moment, thinking about how she should go on, before continuing. “You wanna open up, or is this good?”