She was dead.
It had happened so suddenly, but he had seen enough running by the door with Sam.
His mom on the ceiling, how, and the nursery burning. Sam could have been in there, he could have died.
Little Sammy, his little brother. His brother who was only six months old but already reminded him so much of Luce and, strangely, Skull.
His mother may be dead, but he wouldn't let any of his family, blood or not, die on his watch. Never again.
He would protect them with his dying will.