Hands came from the fuzziness around her and she fought them. Between the tears and the exhaustion, as well as her nearsightedness, Kassidy had no idea who was trying to hurt her, but she didn’t care. She had one last burst of total defiance in her; she would not be raped before she died of the cold; she would go down fighting. Screaming her outrage, she fought the hands that grasped at her.
Slowly a voice began to penetrate her frightened and terrorized mind. Someone was calling her by name in a voice as sweet as an angel’s. Teagan? Dear lord, Teagan? Could it really be?
“Kassidy, sweetheart, its Teagan, please hear me, Kassidy,” pleaded Teagan. “Honey, we have to get in the car now. Please let me help you.” Somehow her words had gotten through and Kassidy stopped fighting her. The girl was exhausted and barely able to help herself stand.