Chapter 6Carmen squeezed Nero’s hand as they stepped across the threshold into Z’s room. Maybe he squeezed hers. Whoever initiated it, their grip on one another was as tight as it had been on the train, as tight as their bond.
Z was battered and bruised. His eyes were swollen shut, one cheek had a red gash, as if he’d been cut, and both of his hands were wrapped in white bandages.
“What sick bastard would do this for a couple of dollars?” Nero asked.
“A hateful one,” Carmen seethed. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but we’re still living in…” She trailed off.
The doctor said there was no time frame as to when or if Z might regain consciousness. For some reason, Nero remembered the man making the angel mosaic—Russel Spears, no relation—and his boyfriend. The boyfriend’s name escape
