Page 445 of The Luna Duet


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I broke and crumpled, not caring my heart skittered out of control or adrenaline made me sick.

The sooner I died, the sooner I could find him.

I need to find him.

“ASLAN!” I punched the closest person holding me in this life. I kicked at another. I fell off the hospital bed where I’d been placed.

Feet pounded as reinforcements came running.

I was picked up.

Carried.

Shoved back down.

More hands imprisoned me.

“Please!” Mum’s sobs cut through the ringing in my ears. “She’s going to kill herself if she continues! Give her something. Anything!”

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

The gunshot.

The firing.

The split-second ending that stole Aslan’s life.

I screamed and howled.

I screeched and sobbed.

I couldn’t contain my anguish.

There wasn’t enough lifeforce inside me to withstand it.

I was dying.

Withering.

Haemorrhaging.

“Aslan!”

“She’s going to have a heart attack if you don’t do something!” Dad roared.

“Administer a sedative,” someone commanded. “Now.”

“But, Doctor, her blood work from Townsville University Hospital came back. It shows she’s—”

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

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