His death

I felt as if something had hit my head. I could see Aren's lips moving as he was still on the phone with Agent Collins, but I could no longer hear them. The constant high-pitch sound distorted everything else, aside from my hectic heartbeat. What the hell had just happened? Callan was the most arrogant bastard I had met. He wouldn't bother to bribe the guards and drain Augustus's pockets to hire an army of lawyers to get him out of that prison, but I was certain that he couldn't have committed suicide. That just didn't make any sense.

I mumbled, "He didn't do it by himself."

Aren looked at me. His eyes were filled with concern. He said something briefly on the phone about calling Jack later before putting his arms around me and pressing my head against his chest.

"Calm down, sunshine. Calm down..." he whispered.

"I'm… I'm just shocked," I said, "but more importantly… how do you feel?"

"How do I feel? Am I supposed to feel anything?" He smiled bitterly.

I hugged him tightly. "No matter