the night we had seen the black and white photos of their bodies , of violet and nick , laid out , clawed and bitten and broken by the trebestia ; of james , the back of his head blown off by the bullet , the hole in his cheek where it had come out ; of penny , so pale that her skin seemed to glow in that colorless photo , her eyes closed , her body covered with a sheet ; of brynna , lying on the slab next to james , covered in blood , eyes still open slightly , her stiff fingers rested over his , looking like they were holding on .