Chapter 23

Zara 

“So,” Locke says. “You’re Zara Callahan again, are you?” 

My name sounds different in his mouth, like it’s something worth saying. 

I try to answer, but breathing is suddenly difficult every inhale catching against the pain that pulses deep and sharp where my body is still healing. I press one hand against my stomach without thinking. 

His gaze drops, and something in his face changes. 

“Where?” he asks. 

“My stomach,” I manage, the words thin.