Chapter 44
Claire's POV
I couldn’t hear anything.
Not the screams, not the gunfire, not Valeria’s voice shouting my name. The world had folded in on itself—colors too bright, shapes too sharp, and all of it muted like I was underwater.
My legs didn’t feel like they were touching the ground.
I’d killed someone.
Leo’s body was still there, motionless, a red hole in his forehead where his arrogance used to live. And Vera..
Valeria’s hands were on my shoulders, shaking me, her mouth moving too fast for me to process. I just stared ahead, eyes burning, heart nowhere to be found.
Then the gunfire surged again—closer, louder.
Someone shouted from down the hall. I didn’t flinch.
“Claire—Claire!” Valeria’s voice cut through this time, barely, like she was clawing her way into my drowning head. “We have to go—now.”
She didn’t wait for me to respond.
She wrapped her arm around me and lifted, dragging me against her body like I weighed nothing. I stumbled beside her as she half-carried me out, steps quick and heavy through broken halls still rattling with conflict.
We turned the corner, and that’s when I saw it.
Gabriel.
He was covered in blood—some of it Vera’s, some not—but his face was unreadable. Hollow.
And in his arms was her.
Vera’s body hung limp in his hold, her head resting against his shoulder, hair dark with blood, one arm swaying loosely with every step he took toward the waiting car.
I stood there, watching the taillights disappear through the shattered gate, until Valeria grabbed me again and pulled me back behind cover. I stumbled with her, barely able to keep my feet beneath me.
She crouched with me near the back wall, breathing hard, shielding me with her body as gunfire roared again—less now, scattered—but it didn’t matter.
Vera was gone.
Not dead. Not dead.
But I didn’t know if she was alive, either.
I curled in on myself, pressing my palms to my ears, but it wasn’t the gunfire I wanted to block out—it was the image. Vera, still. Vera, limp. Vera being taken away because there was nothing left anyone could do on this battlefield.
“I should’ve stopped her,” I whispered.
Valeria turned to me, face streaked with sweat and blood, her jaw tight.
“She would've gone no matter what,” she said. “Even if you begged. You know that.”
“I let her run into it—”
“You didn’t let her do anything. That’s not how she works.” Valeria’s voice broke, just for a second. “She threw herself in the way so you wouldn’t have to.”
I swallowed, trying to breathe past the burn in my throat.
Valeria looked out toward the now quiet yard, smoke still lifting in the air. “Gabriel will get her to the safehouse. He’ll do everything he can.”
“What if it’s not enough?” I said, the words tearing out of me before I could stop them.
She didn’t answer right away.
Then, softer, “Then we go to her. And we make it enough.”
I nodded, but it felt like my body was floating—like the part of me that was grounded had left with Vera.
I closed my eyes, still seeing her blood on Gabriel’s hands.
And I didn’t realize I was crying until Valeria’s arm wrapped around me, her voice quiet beside my ear.
“She’s a fighter, Claire.”
Yeah.
But what if she was tired of fighting?
He moved fast. Urgent.
Too urgent.
Valeria tried to block my view, but I turned—watching him lay Vera down in the back seat like she was made of glass. He shouted something to the driver and slammed the door.
The car peeled off.
Taking her away.
And I still couldn’t breathe.
The ride to the safehouse was silent.
No one spoke.
Not me. Not Valeria. Not the men who were bleeding in the backseat.
The truck bounced over dirt roads, headlights cutting through smoke still clinging to the night. My hands were still covered in Vera’s blood. My throat was dry. My brain kept screaming that this wasn’t real. That I’d walk in and find her sitting on the couch like none of this ever happened.
We pulled up to the gate, and the moment the car stopped, I was out—running to the front door, throwing it open like I expected to hear her voice.
It was empty.
Gabriel wasn’t here.
Vera wasn’t here.
“Maybe they’re right behind us,” I said, my voice too loud in the silence. “Maybe they got caught in traffic or—”
“Claire,” Valeria warned, but I didn’t stop.
“She was still breathing—she had to be—Gabriel said he had it under control—”
“Claire.”
I turned.
Valeria was at the table, gripping the radio so tightly her knuckles were white. Her face was pale, sweat mixing with blood on her temple. She pressed the side of the receiver and spoke, low and strained.
“Status on Jefa’s transport. Anyone got eyes on Gabriel?”
Crackling static.
Then a voice came through—panicked, fast.
“Valeria—Jefa’s car got hit. Heard it over the comms. One of Leo’s guys intercepted them up near Devil’s Spine. Forced them off the cliff.”
The blood drained from my body.
“What?” Valeria said, louder now, voice cracking. “Say that again—say it again!”
“Black vehicle. Same direction Gabriel took. They say it went over the edge. Burst into flames on the way down.”
Everything inside me dropped.
“No,” I whispered.
Valeria was shaking now. Just slightly. Her hand slipped off the radio like she’d lost her grip on the world.
I stepped closer. “He didn’t say anything. He didn’t… he would’ve told us—”
But Valeria wasn’t listening. She looked like someone had pulled the ground out from under her.
She turned suddenly and slammed her fist into the wall. Then again. Harder.
“No!”
I backed up.
She was breaking apart in front of me and all I could do was stand there.
“She’s not dead,” I said. “She can’t be. Not Vera.”
But I didn’t believe it.
Because Gabriel was gone.
And Vera…
Vera was burning at the bottom of a cliff.
And all we could do was wait for ashes.
Valeria sank into the nearest chair, both elbows on the table, her head in her hands. She was breathing too fast, like she couldn’t pull in air. Her shoulders shook once. Just once.
I had never seen her like that.
Not even when Vera pulled the trigger on Hector. Not even when she found out Leo was gunning for us. But this?
This broke something.
“I should’ve gone with them,” she said, voice raw, muffled by her hands. “I should’ve fucking gone.”
I stood in the middle of the room like I didn’t belong in my own skin.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to believe Gabriel was still driving and Vera was just unconscious. Not gone. Not dead.
I took a step toward Valeria.
“Maybe…” My voice cracked. “Maybe they got it wrong. Maybe she jumped before it hit—maybe—”
Valeria snapped her head up, eyes bloodshot.
“They said it went off the cliff, Claire.”
“But—”
“It caught fire before it hit the bottom.” Her voice broke mid-sentence. “No one survives that.”
The finality of it hit like a bullet to the chest.
I turned away, stumbling toward the couch, and dropped into it hard. My fingers were trembling. My jaw ached from how tight I was clenching it.
She wasn’t supposed to die.
Not like this.
Not without me.
The room was still. The silence pressed in from all sides, so thick it felt like it was crushing the air out of my lungs. The only sound was the soft buzz of the radio and the occasional pop from the wall where Valeria had punched it.
I didn’t cry at first.
I just stared.
My fingers dug into the couch cushion, nails scraping the worn fabric. If I let go, I felt like I’d fall straight through the floor.
And then I heard her steps.
Valeria.
I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to see her face because I knew—if I saw it, I’d break.
She didn’t say anything.
She just sat down beside me.
Her arms wrapped around me, slow and tight, pulling me into her chest.
And I shattered.
The sob tore out of me like it had been hiding in my lungs for years. My hands fisted into her shirt. I didn’t care. She held on tighter, like she needed me just as badly.
I felt her breathing change—ragged, sharp.
Then she broke, too.
She cried without noise. Her shoulders shook against mine. Her hands trembled on my back.
We didn’t say her name.
We didn’t have to.
Vera was everything sharp and cold and untouchable—and now she was gone.
And all we could do was sit in the wreckage she left behind. Wrapped in each other’s arms, grieving the only person who ever made either of us feel like we weren’t alone in this brutal world.
Valeria’s arms were still around me when the sound cut through the silence.
A sharp, vibrating buzz from her jacket pocket.
We both froze.
She didn’t move right away. Just buried her face against my shoulder like she didn’t want to face whatever was waiting on the other end of that call.
But the buzzing didn’t stop.
She finally pulled back, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and reached into her jacket.
Her screen lit up.
Emilia.
Valeria stared at the name like it physically hurt her.
I sat still, barely breathing.
She answered, voice low and cracked. “Emi.”
“Valeria—where the hell are you?” Emilia’s voice was loud, frantic, already on the verge of breaking. “I’ve been trying to call you all night, what happened? Where’s Claire? Where are you?”
Valeria opened her mouth, but no words came out.
She swallowed hard.
Then whispered, “She’s gone.”
There was silence on the other end.
Then Emilia’s voice returned, smaller this time. “What do you mean?”
Valeria squeezed her eyes shut. “Vera. She—she didn’t make it. The car went over a cliff. Leo’s men… they took her from us.”
A sharp inhale from Emilia.
Then: “I’m coming.”
Valeria let out a shuddered breath. “Emi—”
“Send me your location. I’m on my way. Don’t say anything else. Just—just text it. Now.”
The call cut.
Valeria sat frozen for a second.
Then she slowly typed something into her phone and sent it.
She didn’t speak.
Neither did I.
Because all we could do now… was wait for the last person Vera ever truly loved to come home to a world without her.