The first thing I felt was pain. A deep, aching pulse in my chest that made every breath feel like glass cutting through my lungs. The second thing was the silence — heavy and absolute. The kind of silence that only comes after an explosion.
When I opened my eyes, everything was blurred. The river stretched out before me, black and endless under a sky veiled in smoke. I was lying on a muddy bank, my clothes soaked, my head pounding. My fingers trembled as I touched my temple and found blood.
“Adrian,” I whispered. My voice barely made a sound.
I pushed myself up, scanning the river in panic. The boat was gone — only shattered pieces floated downstream, swallowed by the current. The air still smelled of gasoline and burnt metal.
“Adrian!” I shouted again, louder this time.
Nothing. Jus
