Chapter 111

It was raining cats and dogs.

Lia looked toward the forest that Marilyn had escaped into, then at Claude, slumped against a huge tree. He was covered in mud and had a bloody forehead. He looked nearly dead, but he wasn't—and that's all that mattered.

"Come here, Lia," he called, wiping the dried blood off his face.

She wanted to sprint to his side but kept tripping over her dress and her own feet. She stumbled, plopping down in front of him. He looked even worse up close.

"What happened? Where are you hurt? Does it hurt a lot? Are you all right? Look at me!" She had tears streaming down her face, her hands patting his muddy face and body.

"Don't cry, my love," Claude murmured, lifting a hand to caress her hair.

"Help is on the way. Hold on, okay? How did you even—"

"How long has it been?" Claude's voice was remarkably sweet, considering that he'd just been stabbed.