All the color left Elliot's face. His fingers trembled beyond his control.
The bright, eager voice in that email, the voice that had once belonged to Wren, seemed to echo in his ears and wouldn't stop. He thought of the red spreading across her skirt, of how pale she had looked crumpled on the floor, and felt as though an invisible hand had reached into his chest and closed around his heart.
"I have to find her." He lurched toward the door, his voice stripped raw.
"Elliot!" Iris grabbed his wrist almost on reflex, her nails digging in. She knew with perfect clarity that if she let go now, he might run to Wren and never come back.
She stared at his broad shoulders as he strained toward the door, and the terror of losing everything she had overwhelmed whatever was left of her reason.
"L
