Adina’s POV

The packhouse was filled with the scent of sickness and fear. I could hear the coughing from outside the room, the wails of families losing loved ones, and the heavy, suffocating silence that followed each death. My heart ached. I couldn’t stay in bed while everyone around me suffered, not when I knew, deep down, that this was somehow connected to me.

I swung my legs off the bed, ignoring the dizziness that followed. My limbs still felt weak, but I forced myself to stand. ...