Maeve

The library was cool and shrouded in darkness as I helped Aaron onto one of the couches. He groaned as he shifted his weight, the bruises from our battle in the alleyway already evident on his skin.

He accepted my help, allowing me to peer into his mouth to check for broken teeth. His nose was likely broken, but he had set it straight himself, the crunching sound of it still ringing in my ears.

“Well, I don’t think you’re dying,” I said ...