Brielle’s POV
My legs buckled as Sandra stepped closer, boots crunching softly over dead leaves. Gregory stood frozen beside me, his hand twitching toward his pocket like he wanted to pull something—maybe a weapon, maybe guilt. But it didn’t matter. Nothing felt real anymore. Not with the blood soaking my side, not with Sandra standing there like a ghost who never should’ve existed beyond boardroom meetings and fake smiles.
“You’re bleeding,” Sandra said calmly, like she was commenting on the weather.
I pressed my hand tighter against the wound. Warmth oozed between my fingers. “No thanks to your welcome party.”
She gave a small shrug. “You were supposed to come willingly. But Gregory has a tendency to make things... complicated.”
“I didn’t know they’d shoot her,” he growled.
“But yo
