Emma
As I reached for the water Kyle offered with the tablets in my other hand, the milky liquid quivered within the confines of the glass. I stared down, recalling Kyle's words—after the fever...
I spoke to Jezebel. “I'd rather have a beer."
“You don't drink beer," Kyle replied.
“And you're dead. Time changes things. I want a beer."
Jezebel shook her head. “Give her a beer."
Once the glass was taken and a cool bottle was in my hand, I nodded toward the cellar. The one place I didn't want to go was now my escape—at least temporarily. I took a step, but Jezebel stopped me.
“Emma, you need to rest. Take the tablets."
With my hands trembling and three sets of eyes upon me, I lifted my hand with the tablets to my open lips and followed them with a sip of the beer. Swallowing, I turne
