I sigh, closing the folder on my laptop.
The more I look at the photos I took of Owen, the more I can see what they lack.
Or rather...
Who.
I let the screen fall shut and rest my forehead against it, unsettled by the direction of my own thoughts.
Last week had not helped.
Not when my eyes had gone to Landry, right at the moment I realised that running combat that day was highly ambitious. I ached too much to demonstrate anything momentous, and it was like Landry had known that. He had read the moment with infuriating accuracy, and then, without a word, he had stepped in when even breathing hurt too much.
The sight of the collarbone injury bleeding into his inconveniently well-fitted tank, had only confirmed what I had suspected the night before- it was Landry who carried Astraea int
