Chapter 53

Harper's POV

I look down at my arm. The blood is still welling up from the gash, but I force myself to breathe through the pain, through the fear. My voice comes out quiet, but unshakable.

“I’m not going. I’d rather bleed out right here on the kitchen floor than step inside one of those buildings.”

Mark doesn’t argue.

He just nods slowly, then gets to work, and the strange, careful way his hands move over my skin makes it all worse somehow. Because for a second, it really does feel like he cares. It's like before all the issues, before everything became twisted.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice catching at the edges. The words feel useless the moment they leave my mouth, brittle things falling into a space that already feels heavy.

Mark looks at me, hi