Jackson frowned as she spoke, but not in anger or hostility, just thought. He looked around the clinic, and then back at Sunny. Rubbed fingers over the scruff along his jaw, then dropped his hand, and told her, point blank, "You're right. I'll get outta here."

There was something almost like drowning in his eyes for a brief instant, a swell of rising panic immediately stamped back down as he turned to gather his books. And a couple of markers.