NIRELLE

The next time I can make sense of my surroundings, I am sitting on Lucien's bed, the room dark with only one dim light coming from a lamp in the distance. The tears seem to be coming to a stop on my end.

"I am sorry," Lucien says, and I look up at him. I was at the edge of the bed, and he was on his knees right in front of me. Confusion filled his face.

"Why..." I want to ask more, but I am even lucky that I was able to successfully let one word out.

"I was afraid that you were going to ...