Mira's POV
The sterile, antiseptic smell of the hospital hallway was making me nauseous. Or maybe that was just the leftover adrenaline and the sheer, mind-bending impossibility of the last hour. I couldn't sit still. My heels clicked a frantic, uneven rhythm on the floor as I paced, my arms wrapped tightly around myself.
Eleanor was in there. My Eleanor. Who had just… who had just done that. And I hope she is ok.
Along the hallway, Roxy sat slouched in one of those awful plastic chairs, looking more annoyed than anyone who just walked away from a car explosion had any right to. She watched me pace for another minute before groaning.
"Would you quit it? You're making me dizzy."
I stopped mid-stride, shooting her a glare that could curdle milk. But she had a point. My frantic energy wasn't helping anyone. I forced myself to slump into the chair next to her, my body thrumming with restless anxiety.
"What's got your leash in a twist, anyway?" Roxy asked, tilting her head.
