Nadia just stared at the TV for a long time.
There was no way. They had to have gotten something won’t. That arrow couldn’t have come from Clint. Bullseye or Trickshot must have gotten a hold of one of his arrows. Our hell, just looked online! There are photos all over the web of the way Clint fletches his shafts. (A small, distant part of her snickered at that. She’d fletched HIS shaft day before last hurhur.)
Nadia wasn’t getting anything done today. Truth be told, she wasn’t getting anything done until she’d seen her husband. Her phone was in her hand before she’d finished the conscious thought.
[text: Clint] On my way. Stay safe. Will send ETA when known.
Nadia just hopped she could make it to him in under three hours. Dammit, why’d she have to go back to San Francisco now?