(Sanya's POV)
I stare at him, dazed.
My mind can't process what's happening, can't reconcile the man in this bed with the man who beat me unconscious in front of his entire family, and I take a step back because even injured, even hooked up to machines, I don't trust him, can't trust him, won't ever trust him again no matter what act he's putting on now.
"Tyron?" I ask.
The name tastes bitter in my mouth, and I watch his face carefully for any sign of the monster I know, any hint of the rage that always simmers just beneath his surface, but all I see is sadness and something that looks almost like desperation, and it's so foreign on his features that for a moment I wonder if the accident damaged his brain, changed him into someone else.
"No," he says, and now he's struggling to sit up
