Hugo's eyes widened as fear clawed its way into his chest, a fear so unfamiliar it felt like an alien force.
For the first time, a suffocating sense of loss gripped him as though something vital was slipping through his fingers.
Hugo pressed his fingers to Sarah's wrist, his tension easing slightly when he felt the faint but steady pulse beneath his fingertips.
She was alive.
"Sarah, stop pretending and get up," he barked irritably.
But the woman lying on the carpet remained motionless.
Her pale face, drained of all color, was framed by her delicate features.
She looked almost lifeless, like a fragile work of art robbed of its vitality.
Hugo gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. "Sarah!"
After a moment of hesitation, he bent down, scooping her into his arms, and rushed her
