She went through the motions of running, her legs pumping hard while her arms swung in tandem, but her mind was no longer fully present or aware of the movement. Between the heat, the humidity, and the intensity of the run, she began to wilt under pressure.

She couldn’t let that happen.

Preslee swallowed the large knot in her throat. She was pretty sure it was her pride. She hated admitting that she was completely wiped out. Maybe she’d pushed herself too hard, but she had been spurred on by the need to prove she could do this. Whether to Adam or to herself, she wasn’t sure.

But her resolve waned. Her nostrils flared as she dug deep to find the strength to carry on. And she did. But every step was a small battle that she had to overcome in hopes of crossing the finish line and winning the war she had waged on herself to keep moving. Because one thing was certain. If she stopped now, it would be over. She wouldn’t be able to start again. So stopping wasn’t an option. Not until she reached the finish line.

By the time she made it to the paved section of the path, her head was spinning. It felt like there was no end to the race and someone had tied sandbags to both of her legs. Was she so out of shape that she couldn’t finish three miles?

Stop it. Focus on the end goal.

She tried, but there was no gas left in her tank. Her body hurt in a way she’d never experienced before, and she wanted to weep in agony. She had major cramping in her legs and sides. Each step was staggeringly painful, but she powered through it.

Finally, she rounded another bend and caught sight of the finish line ahead. Well, barely. Thick plumes of gray smoke lined both sides of the track leading to the finish line and minimized her visibility. Not that it mattered. The sweat dripping into her eyes blurred her vision, making it hard to see anything anyway.

She blinked it away and gazed at the finish line again. This close, it still seemed like an impossible distance. But she wasn’t giving up. She pulled from the last of her reserves and ran through the haze of polluted air.

God, her poor lungs.

A wave of heat and nausea washed over her. Erratic thoughts swept through her, and her mind drifted. Was she having a hot flash? Going through menopause? Okay, she was only twenty-eight, so menopause probably wasn’t the culprit…yet stranger things had happened, right?

Jeez. Why couldn’t she think straight?

Come on, Preslee. Focus.