Cory. The name slams into me so hard that I feel the impact. It’s a fist to the gut, an arrow to the chest. I can’t breathe. My heart feels like it must have stopped. My knees seem to be buckling. Lochlan moves forward to catch me, and before I can stop myself, my breath is hitching against his shoulder. “I know,” he says, and his voice is so very quiet. “I should have been here,” I say, the words a desperate gasp.
