“We have no other ideas,” I pushed, desperately, and Max winced—as if the truth of the statement physically struck him. But again, he shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, more quietly. “I can’t.” But I heard what was really hiding in the razor’s edge of his voice, in the hard tension of his features. Before I gave myself time to think, I took his bloodied hand in mine, ignoring the startled jump of his fingers. His fear was so intense that I felt it vibrating from his skin. “Trust me,” I murmured. A plea, a request, a command—I wasn’t sure which, or perhaps all three. Max looked like he didn’t
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TRUST HERRRRR SMH
