“It wasn’t my fault.” Oliver cut her off, the words rasping into empty sounds in her throat. “He hit me first. I was just defending Reyna. He hit me first. It wasn’t my fault.” He repeated it, like it was important she understood that. They weren’t the same, she and him, and she shouldn’t make that mistake again. That was what he meant. But Red hadn’t even got to explain what she meant, who’d died because of her.
