We arrived at Malcolm’s town house.
“Chief will want a briefing. He isn’t happy about what we did. I should never have let you go to that restaurant.”
One look at my tired face, he said, “But we can talk about that later.”
Now that my adrenaline had calmed down, I could feel every bruise and scrape on my body from running through the woods to my fight with Covin.
Malcolm attentively helped me into his house. I fell onto his couch in relief. A look of concern crossed his features.
“Adira.” I opened my eyes. “You’re bleeding.”
I glanced down at myself. My white shirt had blood spots on it. My right palm had a small bleeding cut through it, no doubt from how hard I was gripping the glass piece. Malcolm came back with a first aid kit. He cared for my hand and a few scratches along my
