The conversation shifted. We moved toward the next investor—a woman in a metallic grey gown with sharp eyes and sharper instincts. I made introductions. I said the right things. Smiled. Listened.
But something was… off.
My pulse began to stutter. Not fast—just uneven. Like a clock hand catching on something it shouldn't. My skin felt warmer than before, like someone had turned the temperature up by a few degrees.
I blinked hard.
The room tilted, barely. Like a ship in the gentlest wave. My hands felt too warm in my gloves. My collar, too tight.
I ran my tongue along the inside of my cheek. Dry.
Too dry.
"…Pardon?" I asked the woman before me, her words suddenly arriving through a tunnel.
She smiled indulgently, repeating something about Shanlhai's interest in Eden's northern wing.
I nodded, slower this time, trying to focus.
Another blink.
