Still, I held her hand. I stared at the ground, weighed down by heaviness. The faster I blinked my eyes, the more they burned, blurring my vision. One hand wiped the dust and grit from my face. The other tugged Naya toward me. She refused. “Naya. Come to me…” Another tug as I struggled to my knees, letting a piece of rock or masonry shift off me. “Naya! We need to get away from here.” Disoriented and with a ringing in my ears, I looked down at our intertwined hands. My gaze followed the red cuts and wounds that speckled her arm. Higher. Higher. Stone.
Oh shit
