*Lena*
I hadn't seen or heard from Xander in a week.
I'd spent most of that time in bed, sweating beneath three thick quilts and even thicker flannel pajamas while Heather fussed over me, making sure I was taking the antibiotics the doctor had prescribed for what he said was a severe viral infection of some kind.
All of it felt odd. The days passed in a blur, day fading into night over, and over. I didn't seem to get better, however. My body was numb and frequently chilled despite how warm Heather tried to keep me.
The worst of it was having to come clean to both of my roommates about what had actually happened in Crimson Creek one feverish night when I'd spilled hot soup on my shirt, and Heather helped me remove it.
They saw the long, jagged scars across my belly, and had screamed
