Regret Is Just The Beginning
“Is the bomb detonator.”
Diana stared at it, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Merlin and I,” Henry continued, gesturing lightly between himself and the man tied to the chair, “are both rigged with bombs.”
He paused deliberately, letting the words sink in.
“The timer started the moment you walked in.”
Diana’s heart skipped.
Her head snapped toward Merlin again, then back to Henry.
Her fingers curled slightly as panic began to creep deeper into her system.
“On the left is Merlin,” Henry said, pointing toward him.
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