Annie held back a wince as she carefully wrapped her arms up around him -- she was mostly mindful of knives, though her bruises were making themselves very known -- and buried her face against Diego's neck. "And I would never forgive myself if Vought killed you."

It was easier to admit that when she was holding onto him and feeling how very much alive he was right now.

Today -- all of this -- was exactly why she'd been so reluctant to bring him along. (But it was also exactly why she had made the right call, too, because she would have never gotten out of there without him.)