Too soon.
Doesn’t matter.
I lean in closer anyway.
Close enough that if he can hear anything—
It’ll be this.
“You’re not done yet,” I murmur.
“And neither am I.”
His breathing steadies—
Just a fraction.
But it’s enough.
For now.
And I hold onto that.
Like it’s everything.
Because right now—
It is.
53
Clay
Noise.
Too loud.
Too close.
Gunfire—
No.
Not gunfire.
Something else.
Voices.
Shouting.
Movement all around me.
I try to move—
Can’t.
Body won’t respond.
