Leonardo hadn’t moved from Arya’s side all night. Her breathing had evened out, but the pallor of her skin was a constant reminder of how close he had come to losing her. He didn’t dare close his eyes, as if staying awake could somehow anchor her to him, keep her safe.

It was noon when a soft knock broke the stillness of the room. Leonardo didn’t bother answering. The door opened, and Ricardo stepped inside, his usually composed appearance in shambles. His beard was unkempt, his eyes hollowed by sleeplessness and something darker.

“I got your message,” Ricardo said quietly, his voice rough. He glanced at Arya, lying motionless on...