Saoirse
The image won’t leave me.
Blood. Warm, sticky, trailing down Chloe’s leg like a silent scream.
I can still smell it—iron and fear. I wish I could forget it, erase it from my bones, but the moment my eyes flutter open, I’m still in the academy clinic. The lights are too white. Too quiet. And there’s a heavy weight pressed beside me.
Jennie.
Her brows knit as she leans in, voice a low rasp. “You’re finally awake,” she mutters, almost like she’s mad at me for sleeping through the chaos.
My heart punches my ribs. “Chloe,” I choke out. “What the hell happened to her? Is she—please, tell me she’s okay.”
Jennie hesitates. I see it in her throat, in the way her jaw ticks and her hand finds mine. “Saoirse,” she says softly, “don’t think about that right now.”
“No.” I yank my hand ba
