49
Peter
People process trauma in different ways. Some fall apart and never pull themselves together. Others find a core of strength that gets them through the days. I’ve always known that Sara was of the latter persuasion, but I’ve never appreciated her inner steel more than I do now as I watch the bathroom door close behind her slender figure.
She’s a warrior, my little bird—as strong in her own way as any trained soldier.
“So do you still think she’s all sweetness and light?” Yan says in Russian as I look away from the door and meet his coolly amused gaze. “Because from where I’m standing, your perfect little doctor seems to have developed quite a thirst for blood.”
“Shut it, Yan,” Ilya snaps before I can respond. “Now’s not the time.”
Under any other circumstances, I’d already ha
