Above her, she heard a man's groan.

Then, everything seemed to grind to a halt.

The disorienting sensation had subsided, but the world around her remained shrouded in darkness.

Rosalynn opened her eyes to find herself cradled in Barlow's arms.

A sharp pain radiated from her body. Had they been buried under the rubble?

“Barlow, are you okay?" Rosalynn asked, concern lacing her voice.

She heard him groan moments ago, and worry gnawed at her. Was he hurt?

There was no reply from him, and her anxiety deepened.

She reached out to gently pat his face in the darkness.

“Barlow? Answer me, please!"

Still, there was no response.

Rosalynn's heart sank as she felt a sticky liquid on her hand, accompanied by a faint metallic scent.

It was Barlow's blood.

He was bleeding!

Panic set in, and Rosalynn kept patting Barlow's face urgently.

“Wake up, Barlow! Please wake up!"

Finally, Barlow stirred.

"Stop it. It hurts," he murmured, his voice low, indicating the seriousness of his injuries.

Luckily, he was still conscious.

Rosalynn let out a relieved sigh.