A rough grip took her by the arm. “Miah.”
In terror, she turned to see Ben’s fiery eyes under his dripping hair. “B-Ben!” she stuttered, struggling against his hold.
“Come with me.” He walked down the road, and Miah was forced to follow. His hold on her arm was surprisingly strong, and it was as cold as ice.
“Where?” Her teeth chattered.
He turned to her sharply and she jumped. “Why did you leave, Miah? Hm? Did you think you could get away? Where were you going, anyway?”
“I—he told me—I didn’t—”
“Ahh, so it was Connor’s fault. Sure. I thought we left him for dead. You can’t blame dead people, dearest.”
She shuddered at his sharp tone, and he huffed and continued to pull her along.
“Please let me go,” she pleaded.
“I can’t do that. They want us back.”
“Wh-who?”
He was silent. “Tell me!” She tried to break away from his grip, but he twisted her arm, and she cried out in pain.
“Just be quiet and come with me, okay?”
Miah bit back a sob and followed, bitter regret almost choking her. This was not how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to go home. Connor was supposed to fix everything.
The road was slippery, and she almost fell. Ben jerked her up, and she knew her arm would be bruised later. What on earth happened to him? He was…he used to be…
And then it hit her.
Their ‘experiment.’ He was comatose for days and I had forgotten? Of course. This was the disastrous result. My best friend's turned into a monster.
But what if he could be turned back? What if she could change him?
Of course not.
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