The dorm was quiet, the only sounds coming from the faint rustle of blankets and the soft breathing of Lucian asleep with Patricia resting against him.
Devin knelt beside Anastasia, gently cleaning the wound on her arm. His hands were steady, his touch careful, but his crimson eyes never left her face, watching for any sign of discomfort.
"There," he said softly, applying a fresh dressing. "You're going to be okay."
Anastasia tried to nod, but suddenly a shiver ran through her, and tears began streaming down her cheeks.
Devin's eyes widened. "Anastasia?" he whispered, his voice threaded with concern. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her trembling form. "What's wrong? Talk to me."
Her face buried against his chest, she gasped out between sobs, "I… I'm going to kill me… I'm so scared… please… please don't let her—don't let Ellie kill me."
Devin's heart clenched at her words. He lifted her chin gently, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Anastasia, listen to me. That will never happen. Not while I'm here. Not while I'm by your side."
Her breath hitched as she clung to him, the warmth of his arms and the unwavering strength in his gaze grounding her in the moment.
"I… I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Devin pressed his forehead lightly against hers. "You'll never have to find out. I've got you. Always."
Behind them, Lucian shifted slightly in his sleep, still holding Patricia close, the room quiet except for the soft, steadying presence of the cousins protecting the girls. In that fragile night, amidst fear and exhaustion, Devin's arms became a shield, and Anastasia finally allowed herself to breathe, if only for a moment.