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“Then go fucking do that,” Maison yells. “What’s stopping you?”

Ezra’s eyes grow wild. “I can’t. Your dad bankrupted us. We. Have. Nothing. I had no idea why your dad did that to mine, but now it makes sense. Covering up a murder is expensive.”

Nigel leans forward, pressing the knife to my neck. “This isn’t getting us anywhere, and I’m getting bored and tired. Get the first aid kit, Micah, or I will kill London. Is that black and white enough for you?”

I let out a whimper because that’s all I can manage, the cold steel pressing into my neck, and Nigel’s thumb curling into the slice on my side.

“Fine,” Micah says as his dangerous energy swirls around him, like a lightning strike waiting for thunder. “I’ll go.”

Nigel lessens his hold on me. “Finally, you see the light.”

“Now let her go,” Maison says, his eyes on my hand and the blood pooling beneath my sweater, dripping on the snow below me. “She’s hurt, Nigel, she needs help.”

Nigel knows… he’s the one who hurt me, then claimed he wasn’t violent.

Nigel clicks his tongue. “Well, you better be quick about it, then. Both of you can go, but don’t come back until you have it.”

Micah steps forward but Ezra’s there, waving his knife, stopping him from getting close to me. “If you hurt her, I will fucking kill you,” he says to both of them. He turns to walk into the dark, menacing forest.

“Hey, Micah,” Nigel yells, releasing his grip on me.

It all happens so fast.

I crumple to the ground as he takes a step forward, grabbing the hunting knife from Ezra’s hands. He lunges forward and slices Micah right in his side. And Micah goes down, hard, into the layered snow.

“That,” he spits as he stands over him, “is for killing my sister.”

For a second, everything goes black. I can’t see, hear, or feel anything after watching Nigel stab Micah. Then the cry of agony was loud, piercing the air, reverberating through the trees. The birds we didn’t think were there anymore flock and crow from trees that surround us, leaving a plume of snowflakes in their wake.

My eyes snap back into focus, immediately seeing Micah bleeding out on the ground in front of me. I lie cold and alone as Maison and Ezra struggle now that the knife is no longer in Ezra’s hand.

I cry out, although I don’t think my voice makes the airwaves. My breath chokes my lungs as I try to scream.

Nigel stands like a stone-cold killer—standing over Micah’s body, doing nothing to help him. Zero remorse for what he just did. Ezra is frozen, dumbfounded, as if this was all just a joke to him, and no one would actually die today.

Maison tackles Nigel, causing Nigel to drop the knife, then pushes himself to his feet and scuttles off into the forest. Nothing else matters to me right now but Micah. So I crawl over to him, a bloody mess myself.

Maison is no longer in view. I breathe a sigh of relief to know Maison’s okay. The knife missed him, but that’s because it wasn’t intended for him. But Micah is on the ground, blood seeping out of his side—the cut so deep and ugly, it’s five times the size of my wound. The surrounding snow is like a ruby-red painting. Blood—so much of it surging out of him like a river.

My world implodes.

“Micah,” I finally cry, crawling over to him. His eyes are almost black and he’s lying on the ground, his body convulsing.

The reality of the situation smacks me in the face.

It’s Maison I’m looking at, not Micah…

I verify it by pressing my hand on his back and feeling his scar, and the sob that escapes me is partial relief and part utter devastation. Relief it’s not Micah, and pure guilt for even feeling that way. He took the fall for Micah. He took on his persona, knowing it may be a sacrifice. I grab his hand, oblivious to everyone around me. Oblivious to where the knife is now, or even if I’m still in danger, or where Micah is right now.

I don’t care at this moment.

Maison’s beautiful eyes find mine, and I let out a sob as I drape my body over his and he stares into my soul. He’s seems… at peace, looking at me, almost as if he planned this. I can’t swallow the sobs trying to come out of me. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

He can’t die—he can’t.

Wiping the stinging tears from my eyes, I look up as Ezra and Micah fight, and Micah’s able to push Ezra to the ground. He presses the spear into Ezra’s throat.

Micah looks at Ollie, who’s stunned by the whole thing.