Ryan:
"She's still alive," Julian said, his voice flat, like the words were meant to be a lifeline thrown into the sea of my despair. He didn't need to look at me as he spoke—his eyes were locked on the road, unmovable, like they had seen too many nights like this. Nights where hope was a threadbare thing, barely holding together the ruins of our choices.
"You sure?" I asked, the words slipping out in a rasp I hadn't meant to expose. But it didn't matter. I needed to hear it more than I'd ever admit, more than I could've prepared myself for.
"Felix wants a show. If he wanted her dead, we'd already have a body."
His words cut through the fog of my thoughts, each syllable like a punch, reminding me that time was running out and that every second wasted could be one too many.
My stomach
