Saw the hair. The face. The head.
Just the head.
Mom.
Everything seemed to explode. My brain, my heart, my strength.
My body re-formed and I dropped to the floor, as bloody as the tiles that surrounded me. There were gasps, movement, hands on my skin, questions.
But I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't see.
All I could do was scream.
Chapter Fifteen
THE DAYS PASSED IN A BLUR.
A never-ending, agony-filled blur.
Because of Mom's death, because of the way she'd died—and because I'd pushed my body to extremes and had all but broken it.
And the worst of it was, I didn't care.
Not about anything or anyone.
Especially not myself.
I'd failed the most important person in my life, and there was no escaping that knowledge. No escaping the guilt of it.
Riley took me home. Not to my home, but hers, keeping me safe, keeping me away from anywhere and anything that might remind me of Mom, of the way she'd been tortured and then dismembered.