His stomach turned, and he scooted back in his desk chair and hunched over, burying his hands in his hair as his vision swam and he sucked down a deep breath. Black dirt between his fingers. He’d scrubbed and scrubbed, but it felt like he could never get that ring of dirt and blood out from around his fingernails. Like he’d dipped his own hands in the same blood Ian had, like they were connected—
