"Tara," he said, his voice beginning to shake a little, because being strong was so goddamn hard right now. Tara, the one person for whom he tried the most to hold up that strength, was expecting to die tonight. Worse than that, she expected it to be by his hand.

Swallowing, he tried again, reaching out slowly with open and empty hands. "Tara. I'm not going to hurt you. Please, you have to believe me."

Jesus, what had he done?

"What happened?"