I can still hear Fallon. Screaming. But I can’t get to her. I can’t fucking get to her. We practically teleport out of the stands and down into the midway. “Out of my way. Let me through,” I snarl at the security guard barricading the gates into the arena. “Let me fucking through.” “Sir, you can’t go in there.” “Like hell I can’t.” I’m pushed to the side by the guard, by reporters. It’s absolute chaos. No one can get anywhere. The flashes of cameras blur my vision. Through the bars, I catch a glimpse of Fallon. My heart plummets. She’s no longer screaming. Face down on the ground, she’s
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