BASTIAN’S POV
I walked to the car alone.
I opened the passenger door quietly and sat beside her.
For a moment, I just looked at her.
This girl… this fragile, stubborn, brave girl… had already suffered more than most. And now I was about to take something from her, even if it was for her own good.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured softly, even though she couldn’t hear me.
I reached out slowly, placing my hand just above her heart. I didn’t want to touch her directly.
I’d always been careful about contact. Physical touch amplifies everything - it opens a channel between my ability and another person's emotional state that without it is manageable, like hearing music through a wall. With it, the wall disappears. I’ve shaken hands with grieving people and nearly gone to my knees. I’ve embraced
