IYISHA'S POV
Iyisha woke already crying.
Her eyes opened, but she did not understand the ceiling above her. Wood. Gray light. A wall moving with the sea. Her hand grabbed at the blanket, then at her own chest, then at the side of the bed.
Her breathing caught.
"Cena."
Malcolm moved beside her. "Iyisha."
His voice brought everything back.
The pier.
Cena's hand.
The blood.
The soldiers.
Her head hanging wrong.
Her body falling.
Iyisha jerked upright with a broken sound. Pain hit her ribs, but she pushed through it and tried to get off the bed.
Malcolm caught her before her feet touched the floor.
"No." Iyisha shoved at him. "No. No. I have to go."
"Iyisha."
"I have to go back."
He pulled her against him. She fought him, hitting his chest with weak hands, trying to twist away. Her breath kept breaking before it reached her lungs.
"Let me go," she gasped. "Let me go."
Malcolm held her tighter.
