Isabella pushed Aubrey's body once.
Then again, harder.
"Aubrey…?"
Her voice shook in a way she didn't recognize. It sounded smaller than she felt. Like it didn't belong to her.
Her eyes dropped to the gunshot wound. The blood pooling beneath Aubrey's side spread slow, thick, too much.
Her pulse stuttered.
"Aubrey. Aubrey you can't do this to me—!"
She grabbed her shoulders and shook her, panic taking over, fingers slipping against blood and fabric.
Nothing.
No reaction.
No breath she could see.
Tears fell freely now, hitting Aubrey's face, mixing with the blood.
Around them, the room had started to fill.
People rushed in. The children. The elderly. The ones who had nowhere else to go.
Voices layered over each other.
Crying.
Shouting.
Someone screamed Julia's name.
Most of them crowded around her instead, around the still body laid out too neatly for someone who had just died.
