“Don’t look up, Remi.” Ben had pulled me close, pressing my face into his chest. Protecting me, even as he trembled in terror. He took that on for me. Stood sentinel for the both of us. Made sure, even as everyone we’d ever loved died, that he and I were safe. His soul bore the scars of that day so that mine could remain whole. Or as whole as it could ever be after living through a slaughter like that. From that night on, he barely spoke, and when he did, it was a stilted, halting, painful struggle for him. All because he’d kept me safe.
