“But accurate,“ she said, crossing her arms. “And if you decide to be a hero, you might never see them again.”
Poppy watched him carefully, her brows furrowed. There came no indication from the way they had come, but it was unclear if that was a good thing.
Poppy watched him almost desperately. “Please,” she almost whispered, her voice quavering. “Please don’t go.”
He looked to her, his eyes set. He leaned to kiss her cheek, his fingers brushing her jaw. "I have to."
She shook her head tearfully, taking his hand in both of hers and holding it close to her heart. “No, you don’t. You could stay and we could get out of here. Please. Please.”
She clutched his hand as tightly as she could as if that would keep him there. “Francis Craw, don’t you dare.”
He looked back at her, his eyes unwelcoming. "No you're not," he said roughly, glancing at one of the other soldiers.
