I grabbed Valeria by the shoulders and shook her hard.
“Where is Kira?”
Her eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused. “Reaper?” she slurred, squinting. “What are you—”
“Where the fuck is Kira?” My voice cracked through the haze like a blade.
She frowned, struggling to think. “She… she left. Ran out. Didn’t even take her shoes.”
Something inside me dropped straight through the floor.
I let her go and she slumped back, already drifting.
I was gone before the sound of my boots faded.
The rain had turned vicious—cold sheets slashing sideways, soaking me through in seconds. I scanned the street, then started moving, walking fast, then faster, calling her name even though the storm swallowed it whole.
“Kira!”
Barefoot. High. Alone. The thought tore through me like shrapnel.
“Kira!”
I was running now, boots pounding puddles that exploded underfoot. Every corner I turned felt like a trapdoor—another empty street, another dead end, another second she might be slipping further away.
The bridge appeared through the curtain of rain—steel arch, low barrier, the river churning black and hungry below.
And then I saw her.
She was curled on one of the cold metal benches bolted into the concrete, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them like she was trying to hold herself together. Her hair clung to her face in soaked strands, clothes plastered to her skin. She wasn’t moving. Just sitting there in the downpour, small and folded in on herself.
Barefoot.
I didn’t slow down. I reached her and dropped onto the bench beside her, the metal cold even through my clothes.
“Kira.”
She didn’t react.
I stripped my jacket off fast and threw it over her shoulders, tugging it closed around her shivering frame. Then I pulled her straight onto my lap, holding her against me like I could shield her from the cold itself. She didn’t push back; she just sank in, boneless, like she’d been waiting for someone to catch her before she fell apart completely. Fuck, she was ice-cold, rain-soaked, trembling violently, teeth knocking together hard enough to hear. My fingers grazed her bare foot and the chill punched straight through my chest. For a second I couldn’t breathe. She was mine to keep alive, and right now she looked like she was slipping away. I stood, scooping her up in my arms, and carried her toward the car.
When her head lolled slightly against my chest, I saw it.
Her pupils were blown wide. Her gaze drifted, unfocused. Not just sad. Not just exhausted.
High.
“Kira,” I said again, firmer this time.
Her eyes moved slowly up to my face. She blinked once. Twice.
“Maksym?” she whispered, the word slurred at the edges.
“I’m here.”
She squinted at me like she was trying to force my features into place. “Are you… real?”
My jaw tightened.
