*Isla*

Poppy gently washes me down the best she can while I sit in my bed, my head still swimming. Mystica is here, too, but she’s not washing my body. She’s checking my vitals and insisting that I try to swallow down some broth, saying, “You’ll feel better once you have some food in your stomach. It’ll help dilute the wolfsbane.”

Maybe she is right, but I can’t seem to choke it down. I don’t know how long I was lying there without breathing, but it seems like it ...