A strained, yet completely, smug smile twisted Bartholomew’s features. It was as though he knew what was going through her mind. “After my last session with Ethen, I’d bet my life he’ll die before your eyes,” Bartholomew said laughing giddily. “That would be freaking perfect,” he said. Immediately afterwards, he coughed feebly, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He coughed again, harder this time, causing him to wince in pain and groan slightly. Savagely Kara hoped he wouldn’t die yet; instead he would be tapped in excruciating pain for days. However, immediately after the feeling she felt ashamed because hadn’t she already done enough to hurt Bartholomew? He had only been 11 when she and her father had put him in a coma.

Bartholomew laughed dem...

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