13
No… it… no…
The only way what she’d heard made sense was if Hagan had triumphed. Harlow guessed he’d won and this was some out of body, something…
Numb. She was numb. Her fingers must have slipped out of the victor’s hair because the man on his knees in front of her moved. Shuffling forward, he fell against the back of the couch, using it to hold himself high on his knees.
Her peripheral vision revealed his position. She hadn’t moved. She wouldn’t turn; she couldn’t.
Eerie silence hung in the air; its intensity made her pulse kick up. Harlow couldn’t do it; she couldn’t bring herself to believe that there was any chance…
“Oh my God,” Ophelia whispered.
“But you’re… you’re dead,” Hagan said.
Harlow’s eyes closed slowly and a single tear fell. It wasn’t a tear of joy or even one o
