Ellie POV
The television was still on as we settled into the silence that followed the chaos. The volume was low, but the dull roar of the panic still resonated.
The boys were pressed against me on the narrow couch in the secure backstage room, August’s face buried in my shoulder, Ian clutching the front of my jacket with white-knuckled determination.
Their cries had faded into small, broken hiccups, the kind that came after terror burned itself out and left only confusion behind.
I rocked them gently, murmuring nonsense words, my heart still racing so hard it hurt.
The screen flickered.
Nolan stood at the podium, blood on his shirt, lights glaring down on him like judgment.
I wasn’t really watching at first. I couldn’t. My focus was on the boys, on keeping the
