*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 ...