I opened my eyes. It wasn’t easy. My brain kept insisting as I struggled that I couldn’t open my eyes because I was dead. But if I was dead, why could I sense the dizzy length of my body laid in a cold lap, cradled in cold arms, with cold kisses pressing against my forehead. I felt smooth silk against my exposed back. Felt the shift of long hair against my face.

Melinda.

My eyes opened, and the first thing I saw was her face. The look there was such pain, such ...