He seized my hand so hard it hurt, desperation burning in his gaze. “Arizona! You have to do it! You can save Luca, can’t you?”
Mariam’s soft, sympathetic mask shattered completely. She lunged forward, yanking at my collar, her eyes bloodshot and feral. “Arizona! You must save my son—or I’ll kill you!”
A bitter, hollow laugh escaped my throat. Slowly, I took off the glove I’d been wearing.
Under the harsh white light, my right hand was a map of winding scars. The fingers were stiff and twisted, long since robbed of the fine dexterity needed for surgery.
I smiled, and the smile cracked as tears spilled down my face. “My hand’s been damaged for a long time.”
“You forgot?” I hissed. “Five years ago, you were the ones who damaged it!”
Mariam’s face went ashen.
Charlton’s pupils tightened, his breath coming fast and shallow. He stared at me as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Your hand… Is it damaged? That can’t be! Why didn’t anyone tell me?l
He looked frantic, as though he were hearing this for the first time. The pain in his eyes made my skin crawl.
Mariam snapped. She threw herself at me and screamed, “No! No! You can’t run away from this! You have to save my child!”