Keller
The last time I felt the bond we shared was three days ago. It wasn’t gone. It was severed. It just felt muted. Snuffed.
Like a fire burning that went out abruptly.
You could describe it as a heartbeat heard through water. It was distant enough to be painful, yet steady enough to keep hope alive.
Bennett paced the room like a caged animal, raking his hair like it were the cause of his entire problems.
“Will you stop lying to yourself,” he snapped, dragging his hand through his hair again. “The way you keep saying she’s alive means she’s fine, and we both know that isn’t true.”
“I didn’t say she’s fine,” I stated, leaning against the dress and crossing my arms over my chest. “I said she’s alive.”
“That sounded like you were insinuating that she’s safe,” Bennett shot back.
“It
