We make eye contact across the milling crowd. Dark circles, tear-stained cheeks, and a hungry look of fury bear down on me. I expect to be screamed at, but when I dismount, when she sees the state of Thaddeus, she just lets me walk into her arms. She doesn’t embrace me back. She’s not even looking at me. “Hunter,” she tells me, and my stomach drops. “You have to go for Hunter.”
