“Flora?” Rafferty’s choked voice brings a fresh wave of grief over me, and I choke on a sob.
The guard chuckles. “Have fun with that one. Hope you enjoy the sound of whining. She’s pretty damned pathetic.” His boots carry him away, and I hold myself as tightly as I possibly can, trying to get the image of her lifeless eyes staring back at me out of my head.
“Ember,” Rafferty says, softly. “Look at me, please.”
I shake my head. “I got her killed,” I choke out.
“No, no you didn’t, Ember. Flora knew what she was doing.”
“If I hadn’t been here, she wouldn’t be dead.”
“Yes, she would be,” he assures me. “Sooner or later, they would have killed her for what she was to me.”
“They caught her getting supplies.”
“Ember, look at me, please.”
His voice cracks on the please, so I swallow hard and force myself to look up and meet his eyes across the narrow hall in our prison. His hard body presses against the bars as he grips them, and his eyes glisten with emotion. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
I shake my head and look down at my once white dress. It’s stained with red.
“Flora wanted to get out of here,” Rafferty says. “More than anything. And now, she’s free of this place. This hell.”
“How can you say that? She was alive while she was here.”
“There is a vast difference in being alive and living, Ember. Trust me. The things Flora faced within these walls were a lot more horrific than meeting death.”
“I don’t belong here.”
“No, you don’t,” he agrees. “This is no place for anyone with a kind heart.”
“You don’t even know me,” I shoot back, angrily.
Rafferty doesn’t even hesitate. “I can see your kindness, Ember. And it’s going to be what gets you killed.”