Left For Dead, I Rise Again

Newm

o spin some new web of innocence

unforgiving, clam

do you think y

dug into the sensitive flesh of my bicep, right over a fading yellow bruise

handsome face a mask of rage. His steel-gray eyes, the on

ed, his gaze flicking to Hope, who

d, a tear already tracing a glistening path d

a tenderness he hadn' t used with me in years. He completely ignor

painful lurch. It was always like this. No matter the situation, no matter who was at

always t

, trying to pull my arm fr

n Garland' s arm. Her touch was magic. The te

with wide, tear-filled eyes. "It' s my fault. I shouldn' t ha

the graceful retreat-it was a masterclass in manipulation, designed to paint me as t

her..." I tried agai

e, momentarily soothed by Hope, was no

ngry thrust. My heel caught on the leg of a nearby display stand, a tall, flimsy

e stand wobble, the vase tilting p

ything cra

as the heavy vase connected with my temple. The world ti

ees b

he last thing I saw was Garland. He wasn' t looki

ing flowers and water, his body a protective wall around her.

egan to trickle down my f

, laced with a terror I had never heard from him before, no

ush a stray petal from he

ying broken and bleeding on t

d faded