The infirmary door closed behind her, muffling the murmurs from the hallway. The air inside smelled of alcohol, metal, and despair. Each machine made a low, continuous noise, the kind of sound that gets into your head and mixes with your breathing. Kade was lying down, the white sheets rising and falling at an irregular pace. His body trembled at short intervals, and beads of sweat ran down his forehead to his neck, tracing a warm path across skin that seemed to be on fire.

Luara ...