Oh Mads. Why? What happened?
Oh Mads. Why? What ?He tore off his jacket, rolling it up as tightly as he could to apply pressure to her ruptured artery. He scrabbled clumsily for his phone. She needed help. Now.
Her skin was ghostly white. He cursed himself inwardly as his brain absorbed the image of her face, drained of all its colour, her life force ebbing away.
Don’t think it, he chastised himself. She’s not Victoria. She’s not.
Don’t think it,She’s not Victoria. She’s notBut she was dying in front of his eyes and he knew it.
He managed to find his voice long enough to call the ambulance, somehow maintaining enough awareness and control to give them the address. He heard himself pleading with them to hurry, his tenor rising until he was practically screaming his demands down the pho
