Crimson Echoes

Fragments streaked behind his eyes: rooftops, summer sun, a small girl shouting the name “Kieran.”

Each call tore at his soul like nails on raw nerve.

“I—I'm all right, Kieran. You don't need to worry, really.”

Yet as the words left her colorless lips, Sloane forced a lopsided, carefree smile, as if pain were an illusion and the streaming blood belonged to someone else.

“The bleeding won't stop. I