28Julian
I’ve never known an emptiness like this before, a burning void that pulses with raw pain. When I lost Maria and my parents, there had been rage and grief, but not this.
Not this awful emptiness mixed with the strongest bloodlust I’ve ever known.
Nora is still and silent as I carry her up the stairs to our bedroom. Her eyes are closed, her lashes forming dark crescents on her colorless cheeks. She’s been like that—all but catatonic from blood loss and exhaustion—since we left the hospital.
As I lay her on the bed, I catch sight of her bruised cheekbone and split lip, and have to turn away to regain control. The violence seething within me feels so toxic, so corrosive, that I can’t touch Nora right now—not without it marking her in some way.
After a few moments, I feel calm eno
