There was a breathy sort of squeak as he lifted her off the metal table. He was rather strong, was he not? Jeannie’s eyes went wide as he held her hand and stroked her cheek. That was very sweet of him, to comfort her when she had behaved so inappropriately.
“Out of here?” she echoed faintly, still uncertain where here was at all. But leaving seemed like a very good idea. It was cold and she did much like the memory of waking inside the ice box. Jeannie nodded. “I would like that, yes, please.”
Her fingers curled tightly around his, unwilling to release him when she did not know where she was. He was going to take her away from this place, and perhaps once she was free of the chill, she would be able to forget the confusion of being dead. It was such an odd thing, she had no idea how she should handle it. Genies did not die, not that way, and she could not even call upon any others to ask for advice.
At that moment, it felt as if the tall, handsome man was her only link to safety and normalcy. He was going to take her out of here. She needed to be free of this place. She needed to forget what had happened. So she had no explanation for why she suddenly blurted, “I think I was dead.”