Lena
The gash across my face throbbed, and I knew the blood from it was running hot and fast. Chris swallowed. His face was damaged but still sweet. So sweet. But his breaths looked excruciating to take.
And then that was the last look I had of Chris. He turned over and clambered away toward fresh air, oxygen, a cool breeze. He didn’t look back, not once.
And my ankle burned under the fiery debris.