Seamus's breath left him in a rush of shock. He'd thought—hoped, of all things—that maybe it had been her heart or one of those sudden brain things that struck without warning, but to know his mother had been so coldly murdered?
A chill ran through him, followed immediately by a hot flood of anger. Fists clenched at his side in a white-knuckled grip, it took all of Seamus's will to swallow down the acidic words that wanted to spill forth. Instead he looked to Ernie, eyes hard and bright and red-rimmed. "You find who did this, Ernie, and you find Dean. You lot do it before I do because I swear to God—" He stopped and closed his eyes briefly. "You have to promise me, Ernie." He needed that right now, some small hope.