Elara could feel her body burning up. A strange heat pulsed through her veins, crawling up her skin like fire licking at dry wood.
Her breaths came shallow and uneven as she paced the length of her room, clenching and unclenching her fists.
She had barely made it through dinner without collapsing, forcing herself to smile as Lawrence's parents chatted away.
The warmth started as a dull flush at the back of her neck, but as the hours passed, it grew into an unbearable fever, an invisible force suffocating her from within.
When she reached for a glass of water, her hands trembled so badly that it slipped from her grip, shattering against the floor. The noise barely registered in her dazed mind.
What's happening to me?
She staggered toward the door, her breath ragged, and the world spun around her. She needed help, she needed Lawrence.
