PREVIEW

... it the ground.

I heard and felt the crack of bones beneath me as we landed. His thin frame had folded under the weight of the tackle. What’s more is that I could see the air leaving his lungs in a sharp and desperate wheeze.

He tried to scramble away, clawing at the wet concrete, fingernails scraping against the stone, eyes wide, wild, panic pouring off him in waves.

I stood.

And I let him see me.

The mask Camille had made reflected in his wide eyes, the d ...

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