“Don’t worry, love,” I say quickly, “we’re going to fix this, okay? The girls are here and we’re going to do this again, just like last time—” “Nazeera,” she says, eyes closed, lips half mumbling. “Yes?” I freeze. “What about Nazeera?” “Saved”—her mouth halts midmotion, then swallows—“my life.”
TAKE THAT WARNER
