Tessy's heart raced, pounding like a trapped bird against her ribs, as her wide eyes caught the dark, glistening stain of blood on Roman's torn shirt. She would have believed it was not blood if not for the strong metallic smell, and the splatters across his face, arms, and knuckles.
Her mind immediately darted to worst-case scenarios, each one more terrible than the last, flashing through her thoughts like lightning. Yet before she could even get a word out, her lips barely parting, Roman cut her off with a sharp question, his voice slicing through the tense air between them.
"What's going on with you?" he asked, his tone suspicious but not in any way tired or worn out as his disheveled appearance suggested. His piercing gaze bore into her, searching for something.
