Then both of them softened their expressions as they turned back to her.
Ryan crouched, gently cradling her injured fingers. “Does it still hurt? Come on — let me help you clean this up. We’ll get some salve on it.”
Warren knelt beside her too, his expression full of guilt. “Don’t cry, Trisha. After the party, I’ll get you that a fresh deer from the woods. Okay? Anything to cheer you up.”
Trisha sniffled and looked up at them both with watery eyes. “Thank you… both of you.”
Then she turned to Warren, her voice so small and sweet it made me want to vomit. “Warren… don’t go hunting anymore. It’s dangerous. I… I’d worry about you.”
Warren’s shoulders stiffened, but he nodded without hesitation. “If that’s what you want. I’ll stop.”
And just like that, they led her away — one on either side, hovering protectively, utterly devoted.
I stood there in the doorway, the shadows of the hall stretching long around me, watching them disappear down the stairs.
For a moment, I felt like I’d woken from a dream.
Because years ago… it was me standing between them.