Tay's wrist seized up, and she strained to make out each distant voice, her body eager and startled.
Everything sacred. She wanted to throw the knife, and rid the threat. Erase the past terror, corrupt her image in Jintao's dead eyes.
Jintao's chest raised. He held his breath in silence and lost eye contact with the man. Yes, his conscience stepped in again. No, Ember's actions said otherwise. Tay knew about what happened to his arm and he couldn't shake it. He remained silent, knowing that Ember would speak first.Bailey grunted, crossing the room to the girl’s side. He looked briefly at her, brow furrowed, before grasping her arm and lifting up the thin, bruised wrist, “is this an instance of mere misunderstanding?”
Dropping her arm, he turned on a heel to gesture towards Ember and her raised knife. He didn’t need to speak, instead he fixed the first mate with a pointed, cutting stare.
Though his eyed strayed not from the man, he firmly addressed the room’s other occupants, “you, lass, or the harpy. What is this?”