The boat rocked gently beneath you, the steady hum of the motor a soft background to the quiet tension in the air. Charleston faded behind you in the distance, but the weight of everything that happened there still hung heavy on your chest.

You sat beside John B, wrapped in an old hoodie that smelled like the Cut. Your hands were clenched in your lap, knuckles white. JJ, Kiara, and Pope sat across from you, their expressions a mix of confusion and dread. They knew something had gone down. They just didn’t know what.

John B cleared his throat. “You should tell them,” he said softly, glancing at you.

You didn’t look up.

Sarah had already started to explain—pieces of it, at least. That it wasn’t her who got shot. That it was you. That Ward wasn’t the only threat on that damn island.

“C’mon,” John B said again, voice gentler now. “They need to know what Rafe did.”

You swallowed hard. Your throat felt tight. The memory was too close, too sharp. Rafe’s wild eyes. The gun. The burning pain. The seconds where everything just… stopped.

You opened your mouth, but no words came.

Then Sarah stepped in. “Rafe shot her,” she said bluntly. “He didn’t mean to—he meant to shoot me. But she stepped in the way. She died. For thirty seconds. And then she came back.”

Silence.

Pope leaned forward, stunned. “He—he what?”

Kiara’s face twisted in horror. “Rafe had what—? A gun? He—he shot you?”

JJ stood up abruptly. “He shot her?”

His voice was rough, cracking with fury, and his eyes locked onto yours. “You died?”

You finally looked up at him, eyes glassy. “Just for a little,” you tried to joke, but your voice shook.

JJ dropped to his knees in front of you, gently prying your hands apart so he could hold them in his. “You—why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out,” you whispered.

“Too late for that,” Kiara snapped, but she was already beside you, checking your side like she could see the scar through your hoodie. “Jesus Christ, how bad was it?”

You gave her a shaky smile. “Bad enough that I stopped breathing.”

JJ’s jaw clenched so tight it looked like it hurt. His grip on your hand tightened. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“JJ—” John B started, but JJ didn’t look away from you.

“I swear to God, if I ever see that bastard again—“