Teresa

Hannah was dying, right before my eyes. Her chances of surviving were slim. First, her left hand was cut off. Now, a sword protruding out through her torso. I pulled her along.

“No way, I’m not going to let you die,” I said, holding her good hand tighter around my neck.

“There is no—” she gagged, coughing more blood on the pristine, marble floor. “Get away now, while you can.”

“I’m not letting you go!” I cried. “Not when I still have the ...