I was tense.
My nerves were stretched thin, and I couldn’t go downstairs. I needed a moment. We had never talked about that night. Stepping inside, I glanced at the kitchen. It was immediately to my right, and I could see it all over. It was like I was there again—three years ago when everything changed. Luke was on his stomach on the floor. His shirt had been ripped, so his entire back was exposed. A huge tear was opened over his back, and there were marks all over him. Lashings. Imprints of fists. Half his back was a deep red, and there were other parts that were already black. Fresh blood seeped out over dried blood.
He’d been beaten. The entire side of his face was swollen. The eye turned toward me was swollen shut with blood streaming from it.
At first, I thought he was dead, and m
