She can't bear this, she can't, she can't. She remembers the fall, remembers the horrible length of it, but she landed in the Park, she lived. She lived, and she met someone who promised to get her home, and now all that someone can do is hold her close and apologize, and it's not enough.

She remembers the fall, the sickening sense of vertigo, remembers it so well that it ceases to be a memory. It's here, heavy and immediate and pulling her over some unseen edge.

"Iman...!" she gasps out, just once.

And then she wakes.