THE THIRD MATING
I stretch my other hand toward them.
“Silas,” I say, steadying my breath. “Your turn. I’ll catch you. I swear.”
Silas raises an eyebrow. “You barely caught yourself. How do you…” He stops, looking at Mike. “Wait, what do you think you’re doing?”
Mike steps back and runs, lunging toward the gap, and as he pushes off, he catches my hands, and I pull him up.
“Are you coming?” Mike asks Silas.
“If I die, my blood is on your hands,” Silas says, as he too steps backwards.