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Don’t have the strength.
Mila
He stumbles again.
This time—
He doesn’t catch himself.
I grab him, wrapping his arm over my shoulders, taking more of his weight.
“You’re not going down,” I tell him.
“Not on my watch.”
He lets out a weak breath that might be a laugh.
“…you’re stubborn.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“You started it.”
The trees beginto thin ahead.
Light breaking through.
Open ground.
Dangerous—
But also—
Opportunity.
“We push through,” I say.
“They’ll have less cover.”
“So will we,” he murmurs.
“Then we move faster than they expect.”
Jase
How do we do that?
She’s already carrying me.
Not physically—
Not fully—
But enough.
Enough to keep me moving.
Enough to keep me upright.
