Athena rubbed Gianna's back as she vomited into the toilet sink, her palm moving in slow, practiced circles, steady enough to become something Gianna could lean into.
The sound was ugly—raw and wet and helpless—and it made something sharp coil in Athena's chest. She bent closer, murmuring soft nonsense under her breath, words that didn't matter so much as the tone of them.
"It's okay," she said again. "I've got you. Just let it out. You're safe."
Gianna's shoulders shook as another wave tore through her.
Athena tightened her grip, feeling bone beneath skin, feeling how small her friend seemed right now. Her jaw clenched as images she didn't want flashed through her mind, images of what the latter had faced hours ago.
Whoever had done this would burn for it. Athena promised viciously. Fire and brimstone would be merciful compared to what she wanted.
