Buried Betrayal on Eight Hundred Acres 34

jogs beside the bed, his hand gripping the metal rail near my head, barking orders into a radio.

As we crash through the double doors of the surgical wing, I reach out with a weak, trembling hand and blindly grab his wrist. His skin is warm.

He looks down at me.

“Please,” I sob, the last of my tough exterior dissolving into a mother’s absolute terror.continue reading …