Elias POV

“I’m so sorry,” she says softly, bending down immediately—instinctively—to pick up the pieces herself.

I turn back toward Camille just as I hear Mara’s breath hitch. The sound is faint, but it cuts straight through me. My eyes drop, and I see it—blood spilling from her hand, red against her skin.

My body reacts before my mind does.

I almost rush to her.

Almost.

But I didn't move.

Margaret hurries forward at once, kneeling to help gather the broken glass from the floor as Mara straightens and turns away, already heading upstairs. She doesn’t look back.

It must really hurt.

I thought in my mind.

The thought presses...