He gave her a brief smile. ‘It’s a lot, Cam, I won’t lie. But it’s you. I trust you.’ He rewrapped the wound, hiding the twisted row of stitches from sight. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘How do you think? In all the jobs I’ve done, I’ve never had a body count before.’

‘I meant your chest,’ said James softly.

‘Fine. I’m fine.’

‘Did you get some sleep?’

‘Enough.’

‘Why am I sure that’s not true?’

‘Maybe I should be losing sleep! God knows how many people died in that theatre because of me. And Guil might end up one of them.’

‘You know that’s not your fault.’

‘Isn’t it? Who came up with the plan? Who brought Dorval down on our heads? Who led Olympe into the theatre? Me. I can’t pretend I didn’t because I did.’

She didn’t know when she’d started crying, but somehow she was and James was there, brushing the tears from her cheeks and she hated how she didn’t hate it at all.

‘Get some more sleep. I’ll wake you if anything happens.’

‘I can’t. I need to work out what we’re going to do and I’ve already wasted all the time we had.’

‘It’s okay to take a break, you know.’

‘Is it?’

‘Camille—’

‘Because when I take a break, it’s not just me I’m putting at risk. Back when I started the battalion, I took risks because nothing mattered. Only, it turns out I built myself a new family out of the wreckage of my old life and now it does matter. I care and, oh god, I keep saying we’re doing good, I tell myself I do the right thing, but I don’t. I can’t sleep because all I can think of is how I hate myself – people are dead – but all I care about really is Guil, which makes me a goddamn bad person who clearly does not do the right thing. Am I a bad person? James, tell me. Am I a bad person?’

Carefully, gently, he folded her into his arms just as he had so many times in the past. She forced herself to stay still for a moment, unwilling to admit she wanted to be held by him. Then lost the battle and let herself lean into his warmth. His fingers carded through her hair, smoothing it back from her forehead. Her breathing fell in time with his, the rhythmic rise and fall tethering her when she felt she might fall apart.

‘You’re not a bad person. I know you, Camille, and I know who you are. You’re good and kind and brave and honest and I’ve loved you all my life.’

Closing her eyes she wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling the hard planes of muscle and breathing in his familiar smell of leather and wood smoke.