Yessica pulls his wheelchair back and the door is slammed in Draco’s face. He’s squeezing the seat in front of him even harder, to the point I think he might rip a piece of it off.
Draco breathes hard, finally looking back at me with glistening eyes. I can’t read his expression. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He doesn’t know what to say—what to do. All he can do is stare at me, covered in his cousin’s blood, and I hear the same words ringing in my head over and over again.
The chime. The echo. The haunting truth.
I was wrong.
I was wrong.
I was so very fucking wrong.