My body felt like it had been crushed under a truck. Every muscle ached, and my throat burned as if I'd swallowed broken glass. The infirmary bed, with its paper-thin mattress and scratchy sheets, wasn't helping matters.
"I want to go home," I croaked, pushing myself up to sit. Even that small movement sent pain shooting through my chest, a cruel reminder of what had happened on the rooftop.
Seraphina hovered by my bedside, concern etched across her beautiful face. "Are you sure? The doctor said you should rest here overnight."
"I'd rather rest in my own bed," I insisted, swinging my legs over the side. The room tilted momentarily, and I gripped the edge of the mattress until the dizziness passed.
Debra frowned, adjusting her glasses as she often did when worried. "Maybe we should call your mom? She's a doctor, after all."
"No!" I said too quickly, wincing at the strain on my raw throat. "No," I repeated more softly. "Mom can't know about this. It would break her heart."
