He is dying, Anita, and nothing we can do will save him. I was melting, dying. The other five were scared, or angry, or a mixture of both, but they were holding it together better than the cushion-hugger. No, he said, and that one word was enough.
I think I would have done just that, but Byron pressed the gauze to my wounded wrist, pinning it to the floor. If I touched him first, I couldn't be that angry. I looked up at Nathaniel with Jason's hands still holding my head. I'd take me up on it, if I were you.
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