'Why is he acting like the reason isn't obvious?'
Eli's grip on the flashlight tightened until his knuckles burned white. His throat locked, but the words tore out anyway, raw against the suffocating silence.
"It's my fault," he blurted. His voice cracked, thin and brittle. "My ability didn't work—I couldn't sense the leeches earlier. If I had, if I'd felt them sooner, Mel and Zaira wouldn't have…" His breath hitched, his voice collapsing into a rasp. "…they wouldn't have passed out."
The guilt cut deeper than any wound. He should've known.
He should've sensed it.
That bad feeling earlier—he ignored it, let it fester instead of acting. He had let it drag too long, too slow.
The words clung to the damp air, swallowed by the cavern's echoes, settling heavy like wet stone on his chest.
Kairo said nothing.
Not right away.
