My body gave out beneath me. I crumpled to the ground on the stone courtyard, shaking uncontrollably as the water continued to pour over me, washing away the blood along with what little warmth I had left.
Every second stretched into eternity.
Ten unbearable minutes passed.
By the time it stopped, I could barely feel my limbs.
I lay there for a moment, trembling, before forcing myself to move again. Slowly, painfully, I dragged my soaked, broken body toward the bathroom.
Head lowered.
Clothes clinging to me.
Barely holding together.
There was only one death left.
The final one.
The thought settled in my mind with a strange, quiet clarity, like the last flicker of a dying flame. After everything, after all the pain and the countless times I had crossed that line between life and death, there was only one more step left to take.
"Dominic," Celeste whispered softly, her voice light and almost dreamy, "she's survived ninety-nine times. If our child could be like that too…"
Her words floated in the air, gentle on the surface, but heavy with something darker underneath.