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“Evie?”

I glanced up and froze, seeing Christopher’s flesh drying across the wire. His body was still on the metal table. The scent of death clung to the air, thick and sweet, just beginning to rot. “Peter’s here,” I whispered as my stomach clenched violently. I looked down and realised I was standing in a pool of blood. Christopher’s blood.

“What?” Jackson said, his brow furrowed. “Upstairs?”

“Yes.” My voice cracked.

"What? So we’re saved?” he said, sitting up as straight as he could with his arms raised above his head.

“No. He—Wayne said if we make a sound, he’ll kill him,” I rushed out, hands trembling as I lowered myself onto the edge of the mattress. “I don’t know what to do, Jackson. My brother is right there, he’s right…he’s right there, and I…and I…” My voice broke. “I killed someone last night.” I covered my mouth and sobbed into my palms.

“Evie,” Jackson murmured.

“He’d hate me,” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “He’d lock me away. He’d never…he’d never want to save me if he knew what I'd done…”

“Baby, look at me.”

I glanced up as Jackson adjusted himself as much as the chains allowed, sitting straighter, shoulders squared. “Please come here,” he whispered, and I crawled closer without thinking. “Closer,” he insisted gently. I leaned in until my cheek pressed against his chest. It was a bit awkward as he was still sitting up, and nude, but then I felt the soft, almost faint rhythm of his heartbeat resting beneath my cheek. “Can you hear it?” he asked quietly.

I nodded against him.

“Good,” Jackson said, exhaling. “That means I’m still here. And as long as I’m still breathing, you don’t get to fall apart completely, alright?”

I nodded again, fingers sinking into his damp skin.

“Deep breaths,” he muttered against my hair.

“In.”

I inhaled, holding it as tears slid down my face.

“Out.”

I exhaled, broken.

“Again,” he said.

“In.”

I inhaled, trembling harder now as everything caught up with me.

“And out.”

A sob came with it this time, silent but crushing, my face pressing harder into his chest like I could hide inside the sound of him. Jackson shifted slightly, enough that his shoulder leaned into mine, despite the chains. “Hey,” he said gently, waiting until I barely lifted my head. His hazel eyes stared into mine and focused on me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered.

“You’re not alone in this,” he promised quietly. “Not even for a second. You hear me?”

My lips parted, but nothing came out.

“I’ve got you,” he continued, voice firmer now, anchored in something unshakable. “And I’m not letting you fall apart, okay?”

“I killed Christopher,” I whispered, my bottom lip trembling.

“No, Evie. No. That bastard plunged the knife into him, not you,” he said, shaking his head softly. “I won't let you carry that around, okay? You had no choice. You were forced.”

I…knew I was forced. But did that even matter? It was still done by my hand, even if I had no strength to pull myself away.

“I can't stop thinking about his eyes,” I whispered. They were begging me without words, pleading for me to do something to stop what was happening. But…I couldn't.