I had the impression that something had hit me, but I couldn’t tell what. I touched my face. It was red, running down my cheek from my forehead. It was blood. My blood. At that red, living sight against the white snow beneath me, something clicked inside my mind, and I realized my arms were empty.
SASHA. I didn’t have her anymore. Where was she?
I know that at that moment I opened my mouth and screamed, but I couldn’t hear my own voice. I only felt pressure buzzing inside my head, the vibration of my scream traveling through my throat and jaws, while the white noise drowned everything else.
Why couldn’t I hear?
I managed to coordinate my hands and legs enough to plant one heel in the snow and steady myself while pushing with an elbow, trying to sit up. It wasn’t pain—it was disorientat
