“Take the medicine,” she urged.
I watched her closely, looking for any sign of deception, but she seemed sincere. With a trembling hand, I took the bottle from her, staring at the dark liquid. It looked bitter, but the throbbing pain in my body urged me to drink it. Reluctantly, I lifted the bottle to my lips and swallowed. The liquid burned as it slid down my throat, but a faint, cooling numbness began to spread through me.
“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice low.
The woman reached out as if to touch my shoulder but paused, her hand hovering in the air before she drew it back. “You’re stronger than you think,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Remember that, Lisa. Sometimes, surviving is the bravest thing we can do.”
I wanted to open my mouth to speak, but a loud bang on the
