Eleanor’s Pov
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen.
There, beneath the cold flickering of fluorescent lights in the hospital lobby, I sat with my body upright but my spirit sunken, watching them replay his fall again and again. Centre Velmon, earlier today. The very place where he stood just hours ago, speaking to the nation, proud, steady, commanding. Now reduced to thirty-two looping seconds of collapse and speculation.
The news anchor wore a sombre look that didn’t reach her eyes. “Sources suggest it may be a reaction to an unknown substance,” she said, her tone laced with the kind of intrigue that feeds public chaos. “The presidency remains silent on the ongoing accusations. Could this be related?”
I clenched my jaw. Hard. My fingers balled into fists on my lap.
What did I
