"What happened?" Sofía asked, breathless, as she hurried into the lounge. A cluster of people stood gathered around the sofa, their faces pale, their bodies rigid.
"It's Monica. S-she… she lost her mate," Jeanne choked out, her voice breaking.
The moment Sofía caught sight of the girl sprawled across the cushions, it felt as though claws had torn straight through her chest and ripped her heart free.
Monica's body was trembling violently, as if she were wasting away before their eyes. Her skin had taken on a sickly yellow hue, her lips drained of color, her eyes rolling back until only the whites showed. It was horrifying.
Doc and Corinne were crouched beside her, working quickly while the others could only stare, helpless and stricken. Sofía couldn't move. She stood rooted to the floor, shock paralyzing her limbs.
Doc pressed a syringe into Monica's arm. Seconds later, her convulsions slowed. Her body slackened, surrendering to unconsciousness. Corinne released a shaky breath.
