Harley’s POV
You shouldn’t have done that, Harley. But I’m very glad you did.
I don’t know how long it’s been. Maybe minutes; maybe hours. I’m vaguely aware of Dash’s hands on me, of his breath on my ear as he whispers—or maybe shouts; I can’t quite tell—words of fear and comfort into my ears. The others are gone, I think, but I don’t know where they went, or when. I don’t know much of anything right now.
Never in my life have I been more petrified than I was when we made the cut. Seeing him that way—not just him, but Josh, too, and even my father—made me feel weaker and more powerless than I have ever felt before. Even now, far removed from Stella’s thoughts, I feel that same way—terrified and broken.
And he’s still here with me.
I broke you, Harley. Didn’t I? Shattered you to pie
