Uriel led Cass back toward the mansion, his grip gentle but firm as if he was trying to steady her trembling steps. Debris, splintered wood, and cracked earth decorated their path but Uriel moved through it with the same confident stride as always, seemingly unfazed by the destruction. To Cass, on the other hand, every piece of sharpness she had to step over was another blow to her heart. The fight, Jamee's anger, Uriel's injuries, the guilt that gnawed at her.
It's your fault.
All your fault.
The feeling was layers deep like mud after a tropical storm and she was dragging herself through it.
Behind them, the sound of hurried footsteps cut through the silence. Arian appeared, looking like he'd just witnessed a disaster (to be fair, they all had). His gun was tucked back into his holster, but his forehead was marred with worry. He jogged up to them, his voice tight with concern.
"Boss—"
