Andrea’s POV
I didn’t know how long I’d been pacing. Could’ve been ten minutes. Could’ve been hours. Time dissolved into a shapeless, cruel fog the second they wheeled Braxton behind those hospital doors and I couldn’t follow.
Blood was still crusted under my nails.
I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been clutching the charm on my bracelet until my fingers cramped.
It was something my aunt gave me before I left, just a tiny silver pendant of a compass. “So, you will always have a safe journey,” she had said with a wink. But right now, I was more lost than ever.
He took a bullet for me.
Braxton freaking Hingestone. That annoyingly confident, coffee-addicted boy who always teased me for being too serious, too quiet, too predictable.
The same guy who, just hours ago, playfully nudged
