51
Sara
I drift in and out of floating darkness, my senses alternating between groggy awareness and total blankness. When I’m coherent enough to think, I’m cognizant of the pain, but I can also latch on to other stimuli… like voices.
“How could you do this? Do you not realize what he’s going to do when he returns? We were supposed to keep her safe.” It’s a male voice, harsh and chiding. I know the man the voice belongs to, but the throbbing pain in my temples becomes unbearable whenever I try to think of the name.
“It was your guards who chased her. You could’ve let her go,” a female voice objects. The woman sounds upset. I know her name is something foreign and exotic, but I’m too fuzzy to remember what it is. “He was abusing her, Lucas—“
Yes, Lucas, that’s it, I recall with relief.
