NINETEEN
MODI
I was pulled from unconsciousness by the most unpleasant yank from something tender and unyielding anchored in my chest.
Groaning, I fought gravity to force my eyelids open. My vision was blurry and took a moment to refocus.
I stared up into a cracked ceiling, and I was lying on some form of hard surface.
A floor, Modi. If you’re staring at a ceiling, it’s probably a floor.
My nose throbbed, as did the rest of my head, and I groaned again, wanting nothing more than to sink back into sweet oblivion.
A woman's sobbing broke through the low hum in my ears, pushing away any and all thoughts of passing out as that awful thing in my chest spasmed again, shooting a bolt of adrenaline right to my brain.
“Annabel, please, please stop crying.” A male voice laced with desperatio
