ARYA

I couldn't bring myself to tell Daxton about Anessa because I needed him to focus on surviving. By the time I slipped out of bed the next morning and made it into the kitchen, Tyrone was already there. He was perched on the armchair, closely watching Daxton.

His cornrows looked new today, their bold lines gleaming under the light, but his blue eyes were dim.

He didn't speak at first, but when I offered him a tired smile, he gave me a nod.

"I'll sit with him," he'd ...