…swiftly. It was a lesson I’d learned early in life, and one Michael was about to learn the hard way.
With Eleanor’s firm grip guiding me, I stood up, my legs still trembling from the cold. The warmth of her presence seemed to cut through the chill like a beacon of hope.
“Are you alright, dear?” she asked, concern softening the edges of her voice.
“Not really,” I admitted. My voice cracked, but there was a strange comfort in admitting the truth. “But I will be.”
Eleanor nodded, her eyes gleaming with a fierce protectiveness. “Let’s get you warm and dry.”
