Days went by and her temperature rose and dropped consistently, her lips were cracked and under eye sunkend from stress, she looked nothing like herself.
I stayed
Constantly reassuring myself that she'll be fine.
But two mornings later, I woke with her body burning in my arms.
Her skin was flushed red, damp with sweat, her breathing ragged. I jerked upright instantly, my hand flying to her forehead.
Too hot.
Far too hot.
"Violet?" I called, shaking her gently, panic scraping down my spine. "Violet, wake up—"
She didn't stir. Her eyes fluttered but didn't open. Her lips parted in a soft, incoherent moan, and then she stilled again.
"Liora!" I shouted, my voice shaking. "Get Maren! Now!"
Footsteps thundered down the hall and I didn't wait. I lifted Violet into my arms and carried her straight out of the room. She felt like fire pressed against my chest, like holding a flame too long in bare hands. Her head lolled against my shoulder.
