Page 166 of Brazen Defiance

I can’t.

There isn’t time.

I somersault, kicking off to make sure I get in front of Clara, pushing her back as I fall from the sky, feet first, one toe catching a stair, the other flying out into nothing.

The sting registers before the pop, and with a twist, I stumble into Clara’s terrified and confused arms.

“Beautiful,” I say, meaning it, not just as a greeting, but as a fact that should be stated with the same frequency with which I get to see her.

But the sting gets bigger, turning into something more like a sore muscle, but it’s deep inside my guts, which makes no sense.

“Jansen,” she says, only she’s yelling, fear writ large across her face, my body jostled, my world condensing down to this one point. This one woman.

I grin, happy just to see her as the world around me fades, high pitched ‘ting’s’ that should worry me sounding around us.

But I’m tired. Too tired to listen to what she’s saying. Too tired to figure out where I am, why I feel so weird.

Too tired to keep my eyes open.

So I close them.

And my world gets very, very quiet.