I told my father I would be back.
The words tasted hollow as I said them, like a promise made with fingers crossed behind my back. He lay there in the hospital bed, smaller than I remembered, his eyes tired but sharp with fear.
He nodded, squeezing my hand as if he wanted to hold me there, to keep me from walking straight into whatever fire Pierce was planning next.
“I need to stop him,” I said quietly. My father swallowed. “Be careful, Jane.”
I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just turned and left.
The moment the hospital doors slid shut behind me, the weight crashed down again. Pierce is planning another fire. The words replayed in my head, over and over, like a match striking again and again, refusing to go out.
I should have gone straight to Daniel.
That was the logical choi
