There was a knock at the door. Ryan ignored it. There was another knock. Ryan poured himself another drink. His warped reflection stared back at him from the cut crystal of the glass that had been his only companion for the past couple of hours. Jones had made it clear he could come back to the lab whenever he wanted. Still, there had been things he’d needed to do, things he’d needed to organise, and weeping by Stef’s bed was not going to ensure a tidy end to his life. He could run. There was one last piece of mirror remaining, enough for a fresh start, enough to undo the…