The Wicked Trilogy by S. Massery

3

Margo

Some people come backfrom unconsciousness slowly, one sense at a time. Hearing, smell, taste. Drifting out of a slumber-like state peacefully.

Not me.

I rush into awareness like I’m bursting from underwater, gasping for air.

And the next thing to hit me?

Memories.

They burn through my mind, one after another, a flipbook of information.

It hurts. I cry out as I relive it.

Someone grabs my arm, threading their fingers through mine. They squeeze my hand, but I’m inconsolable. The truth is blinding, but I finally have answers.

I remember.