Lance's POV
I couldn't rest. Each time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing him. The scream, the tears, the way he held her close, sobbing as if the world had ended. That single image of Adrian had been carved deep into the back of my mind, refusing to leave.
That sight of his bloodied body beside the bleeding woman, her motionless frame.
I still couldn't believe it. I still couldn't accept it.
"No… no," I kept whispering to myself, but it changed nothing.
Guilt consumed me whole. For days not it has. Guilt that I had been the one holding the gun.
Guilt that I hadn't stopped the bullet in time.
Guilt that, despite everything he had done for me back when I was locked away, I couldn't save him.
The one person who hadn't abandoned me… I couldn't offer him the help he needed. And mostly because the person he had lost was the closest person to him, the woman he has cherished as a mother all his life, his only succor.
"Lance!"
