The tavern went still.
Completely still.
Flick made the smallest broken sound beside me.
And suddenly I knew.
Oh God.
“She saw you,” I whispered.
Tears spilled instantly down Flick’s cheeks.
“She was still alive,” Flick whispered shakily. “For a minute.”
Jesus.
Pain hit me hard enough to blur my vision for half a second.
Not because of the violence.
Because Flick carried this alone.
For months.
Vaughn kept talking anyway.
“The girl begged her for help.”
Wolf swore quietly under his breath.
Tate’s face hardened.
Ava looked sick again.
“Hersh…” Flick’s voice broke completely now. “I tried.”
I turned toward her fully.
“What?”
“I tried to help her.”
The grief in her voice nearly split me open.
“I crawled toward her after they left.” Her breathing turned uneven. “There was so much blood and she kept reaching for me and?—”
She stopped hard.
Like the memory physically choked her.
I caught her face gently between my hands instantly.
“Hey. Hey, look at me.”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
Shattered.
