Book 18: What Are You?

Skye

A lab assistant, a young woman in her early twenties by my estimation, makes quick work of the blood draw, but I still feel queasy and unsteady while wrapped in a blanket in the clinic lobby, silently munching on a bag of the stalest oatmeal raisin cookies in the Allied Kingdoms.

Alex dutifully escorted me here, choosing the quickest path through campus. This early on a Saturday morning, the chances of running into anyone we knew were slim, and luck was in our favor, because we didn’t pass another soul. Now, it’s closing in on 9:00 A.M., and my unintentionally wild night has caught up to me in droves. My stomach is in knots, and I feel like I haven’t slept in years. I assured him I could get home on my own, and he left, which should make me feel better, but it doesn’t.

“Dr. Scarlett said you’re not feeling well,” the lab assistant says, retu