I reach for Emma’s face, gently brushing the bloodied curls from her cheek. My fingers press against her neck, searching for a pulse.
Nothing.
Oh God. Please let me be touching the wrong spot.
“Come on,” I whisper, my voice quaking as I press harder.
There it is! Weak, but still there. For now.
“Please, Emma. Don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I love you. Please!” I stammer through clattering teeth.
My world narrows to her stillness—her silence, the way her lips are slightly parted, as if she was about to call my name.
Hot tears pour down my cheeks. A hollow agony swells in my chest, expanding until I can barely breathe.
“No.” My voice cracks. “No, no, no… Emma!”
My knees hit the blood-soaked porch with a dull thud. My hands tremble as they hover over her, unsure where to go next.
“Charles!”
A flash of hope shoots through me. My brother.
He’s a healer. He’ll help.
I whip my head around, scanning the porch for him—
But he’s gone.
Panic claws up my throat.
“Where’s Charles?” My voice is sharp, frantic.
Pop-Pop’s voice is tight. “He ran to look for Jayla.”
“What?” Of course he did. Asshole. “But Emma’s hurt!”
“Boy, look at all this blood,” Pop-Pop replies. “Jayla’s gotta be hurt too.”
Of course Charles had to be the hero, had to be the one chasing the next hurricane before putting out the fire in front of us.
I’m gonna beat his ass when I see him.
I should’ve made him stay. I was so emotional. So focused on Emma that I didn’t see him go.
“Dammit, Charles!” I rasp, my fist slamming into the porch railing.Emma needs you.Ineed you.
But I shouldn’t be mad at him. Not really. I know he’s desperate to protect the family.
He wouldn’t have left if he didn’t think Jayla was somewhere in pain or in danger.
Still, helplessness chokes me like a noose.
If Charles were here, he could heal Emma now—or at least try to.
But he’s not.
And Emma’s pulse is fading.
