The silence in the back of the SUV was louder than the crash had been. It was a thick, suffocating thing that tasted like dust and copper. I leaned my forehead against the cold window, watching the blurred lights of Cape Town retreat into the darkness. My head throbbed with a rhythmic, stabbing pain, and I could feel the sticky warmth of blood matting my hair. But I didn't care. The physical pain was a dull hum compared to the screaming void in my chest where my heart used to be.
Toby was gone.
The image of his small, frantic hand pressed against the jet's window was burned into my retinas. I could still hear his muffled cry for "Mommy" echoing over the roar of the engines. It was a sound that would haunt me until the day I died.
"Where are you taking me, Marcus?" I asked. My voice didn
