Chapter Nineteen
“Avery.”
I think I went into a kind of fugue state with the chair, with the statue on the shelf, with a lamp in the corner. The study is in shambles, every cabinet ripped open, all four sides of the walls torn open.
Gabriel steps into the room, and I brace myself for his fury. I cringe away from his violence. Paranoia has its grip in me, deep enough to draw blood. Maybe that’s why I’m bleeding. I touch my cheek, unsurprised when it comes away smeared pink. Tears and blood, the pain a dull throb.
He steps over the remains of his swivel chair, past the innocent-looking globe lying on the floor. When he reaches me, he kneels and brushes the hair from my face.
His expression isn’t angry, though. It’s concerned.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he says, sounding more emot
