She’s so damn stubborn that she would choose to fight me until she collapsed rather than let me see her injured. The image of her crumpling to the ground sends a chill through me, icing over my burning rage. You would think I’d be numb to witnessing hurt by now, watching Death claim another victim. But when she crumpled, something inside me cracked. The sight of her so weak, so vulnerable, so unlike herself, was enough to shatter a piece of the soul I’d forgotten I had.
