Romain
By the time we make it out of the mountain, I'm dead on my feet.
Emmalee is slowly recovering from the shock of nearly drowning to death but still isn't her usual self. I don't blame her—even I can't wrap my head around this whole thing and I'm the one who found her.
We descend the mountain carefully, every step measured. Cautious. I keep a firm hold on her as her legs are still shaky. Technically, she shouldn't even be doing this—I should've hoisted her over my shoulder to keep her from hurting herself.
I feared dropping her, though. I don't have any strength left in me and the stab wound on my side is throbbing unbearably now, demanding my undivided attention. Every step I take fills my mouth with the distinct taste of blood.
At last, we reach the bottom and I gently guid
