His mother. Ausmane’s mother.
There was no time to ruminate over that bombshell when the helicopter swerved to the right dodging another projectile and threw me against my seatbelt. Ausmane removed his coat and opened his side of the door. A gush of wind blasted inside with distant squalls, my hair a mess in my face but I could see Ausmane preparing for a death mission.
“Don’t fall,” Soho said both chipper and grave.
“Ha. Funny.” The wind engulfed Ausmane’s response.
Gunshots exploded outside the helicopter and shards scraped the glass of the windows. As much as I needed to close my eyes and avoid the risk of fainting, I hated staying silent in a guarded compartment, oblivious to the horrors outside, letting the one who constantly helped me take on all the trouble again.
The weight of
