Brady said.
Griffin muttered, picking at a blade of grass and leaning his head on my shoulder.
Hunt stuffed his hands into his pockets.
I said.
Layla said. She winced.
Hunt just gave her a look that reminded her:Immortals, dude.
She flung herself theatrically to the grass. Bobo bounced over to lick her face. She laughed, which was far better than her earlier panicked wheezing.
Brady hedged.
Hunt shrugged.
Layla groaned.
Brady said.
I asked.
Hunt said. He looked at us. We shook our heads.
I tapped my foot against Griffin’s just to touch him more. I barked a laugh.
My friends all wore serious expressions though.
My brows shot skyward.
Hunt frowned.
I chuffed.
That got a laugh out of all of them.
Layla was hugging Bobo to her chest, much as I had earlier, like he was a source of comfort when everything we believed to be true was rapidly unraveling.
Layla said grimly.
Hunt said.
Griffin said,
Brady said.
Griffin said.
His question hung in the air like a stench we couldn’t escape.
he added.
This time, instead of her recent litany offucks, Layla brought a hand to her mouth and nibbled on a nail.
Softly, so that it was a whisper into our minds, I asked,
