Forty-Five
Ryann let her head fall forward as the Hermes rose. She didn’t join in the sounds of relief around her.
She’d failed. First Cathal, then Tris, and now Brice. Apart from herself, only Keelin remained from their old crew.
Her stomach clenched with a silent sob.
“You okay, Ryann?” A hand rested on her shoulder, and she turned to see Piran, crouched by her side. He genuinely looked concerned.
She nodded. “We’re free.” But she’d left a part of herself behind. She’d never be totally free.
“You did the best you could,” Piran said, and Ryann wondered if things were that obvious. “If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t think any of us would have got out. Thank you.”
“I just did what I had to.” Like leaving Brice. Like failing to stop Daman throw Arela to the shades. Like allowing Lyne
