Chapter 77

• Danielle had barely closed the door of her bedroom when her legs gave out, sending her to the edge of the bed. Her heart was a wild, erratic drum in her chest, the echoes of the night’s chaos still ringing in her ears.
• Theo’s pale little face haunted her. His faint breathing, his small body clinging to life—it clawed at her insides until the guilt was unbearable.
• She pressed her trembling hands to her temples. “I can’t… I can’t keep doing this,” she whispered to the silence.