ISLA'S POV
I hadn't said a word since the basement.
Thea hadn't pushed, not on the drive to her flat, not while she was fussing over blankets and pulling the curtains shut against the last of the evening light. She just moved around me quietly, the way you'd move around something fragile you weren't sure how to hold, and I let her, because I didn't trust my own voice not to crack the moment I used it.
I couldn't go home. Couldn't face my mother, couldn't watch her eyes go soft with worry the second she saw my raw hands, couldn't explain any of it without unraveling completely. Thea's sofa, with its mismatched cushions and the blanket she kept draped over the back for exactly nights like this, felt like the only place I could fall apart without an audience I needed to protect.
"Hey." Th
