“Daisy, look at me,” Ryke says, his hand sliding on my thigh, holding me tightly. I meet his concerned gaze just as the last memory hits me. I picked myself off the concrete. “I saw you,” I whisper. “You were right there.” I remember meeting his eyes. And they were full of anger, full of desperation, full of gut-wrenching pain. He screamed my name. I heard it only once before something hard met my face.
