Nicky did not answer.
He turned instead.
Away from Phillip. Away from Alfonso.
He bent and scooped Eliana up into his arms as if she weighed nothing, one arm under her knees, the other firm around her back. The sudden lift made her gasp, fingers clutching at his coat, afraid for a split second that the ground might rush back up to meet her.
It didn't.
She was held.
Secure. Solid. Real.
Behind them, Alfonso thrashed weakly against the soldiers holding him down, his attention no longer on her, not even on Nicky. His eyes were fixed on his father now, wide and broken, searching for something that wasn't there.
Phillip did not look at Eliana.
Not once.
The other men were already backing away. Weapons abandoned. Heads down. The field was emptying fast, fear replacing whatever loyalty had kept them there.
The horror was ending.
The realization hit her all at once, sharp and overwhelming.
Her body gave up.
