Roman's heart seized in his chest. Panic flared like a wildfire as he cradled Tessy in his arms, her body limp, unresponsive.
"Tessy," he called, his voice tight, tinged with disbelief. No answer. Her breathing was steady, her skin warm, but she wasn't waking up. A sense of dread coiled around his chest like a vice. He gave her a gentle shake, hoping, praying, that she'd stir.
"Tessy, are you okay?" he asked again, louder this time, voice cracking slightly. Still nothing.
He gently lowered her into the nearest chair, eyes wild with confusion, his hands trembling as he reached for her pulse. Her heartbeat was there—soft, steady—but she remained eerily still. His mind raced. She had just been smiling at him. What had changed?
