“Salvation?” she felt like a broken record. Then again, there wasn’t much else that she felt she could say. He also did a lot of talking for her, too, so that was taken care of. Considering the strange circumstances, he was particularly chatty. While she didn’t exactly like people, she couldn’t place whether or not it made her like his presence any more or less. Her brain was just so loud it was hard to hear much of anything.

“Uh, yeah, this way,” she muttered, her voice somewhat a growl. The fact that her shoulder was bleeding quite a bit made her seem even shorter, what with her hunched over to try and compensate for the rush of the flow. Her leg, stinted, made her seem even stockier than before, the way she hobbled over to the mystery man. Despite the ailments, she was very dogged, determined to move forward without assistance. Her eyebrows knitted together and the mascara began to dry on her cheeks as the rain died down.

“Why do you know my name?” she asked. “Scratch that—don’t ever call me Carletta again, ever. That’s more important.”

She looked up at him and felt the air rush out of her chest again from bewilderment. “Please don’t tell me I call you ‘salvation.’”