Late that evening, Erin woke with a start. A strange sound—a kind of low moaning—dragged her up from deep slumber. Light from the bathroom spilled into the hallway with an eye-piercing glare. Pulling on her slippers, Erin went to investigate.
Sheridan sat on the bathroom floor, hugging her knees and keening softly. The stench of vomit made Erin want to gag too.
“Danny are you all right?” she asked after several convulsive swallows.
“Noooo!” her friend wailed.
Erin swept a sweaty blond curl from her friend"s forehead. “What"s wrong, sweetie? Are you sick?”
“I"ve been sick for days. I can"t shake it. I can"t hide it anymore.” Sheridan"s breath came so fast, Erin feared she was near hyperventilation.
“Why are you trying to hide it?” she demanded. “If you"re sick, tell your parents. Have
