33
The front door opened, and Ceris stepped out onto the porch.
She sat in the rocking chair beside mine. “Here,” she said, handing me a new mug with steamy coffee. “It’s black.”
I dropped the empty mug over the railing and took the new mug from her. “Thanks.” I sipped the hot liquid, kind of pleased when it burned my throat.
“How are you?” she asked.
Everyone asked me that every two minutes.
Apparently, I had lost consciousness when we were halfway through the first tunnel, right before the volcano erupted. They got outside with a second to spare and took us back to the island. Victor tended my wound. It was deeper than Micah first assumed, and I had lost a lot of blood. Victor performed a small surgery, transfused blood, and all that jazz. I stayed in bed, in and out of consciousne
