Mia’s trembling had finally begun to ease. Her breath, which had been ragged and shaky, started to even out, though she was still shivering. She clutched at the hem of her shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
She let out a slow, shaky exhale and turned to me, her eyes glistening.
“Thank God you came back on time,” she whispered. Her voice cracked, but she tried to hold herself together. “What if you hadn’t? I can’t even imagine what might have happened…”
She trailed off, but I understood the weight of what she wasn’t saying.
The image of her lying unconscious, surrounded by Alistair’s men, flashed in my mind again like a blade scraping bone.
She stared at her lap, gripping her own hands so tightly her knuckles whitened. Then she spoke again, quieter but more delibera
