Finley didn’t like the feeling of paralysis.
“Yeah, Gwynnie, can you sing for me?” she asked thickly, her voice shaking.
Marnin’s hands touched her limbs lightly, checking if I was okay. He breathed out heavily as Gwyneth started a sweet melody. Finley tried to move her hand up to hold the little girl’s, but all that happened was a pitiful flop of her hand.
“At least you can move a little,” Marnin said quietly. Finley tried to nod her head, but it felt too weak. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She hated this.
i could've gone outside to take a walk, but i know that i wouldn't've come back