Romain

By the time we make it out of the mountain, I'm dead on my feet.

Emmalee is slowly recovering from the shock of nearly drowning to death but still isn't her usual self. I don't blame her—even I can't wrap my head around this whole thing and I'm the one who found her.

We descend the mountain carefully, every step measured. Cautious. I keep a firm hold on her as her legs are still shaky. Technically, she shouldn't even be doing this—I should've hoisted her over my shoulder to keep ...