Asher’s Pov
The room spun, a dizzying carousel that threatened to throw me off balance. Each thought was a thread slipping through my grasp, elusive and maddeningly intangible. Nash's words cut through the haze, a lifeline in the storm.
"Maybe you should sit down," Nash suggested, his eyes reflecting genuine worry. I attempted to brush off the dizziness, clinging to the illusion of control. "I'm fine," I muttered, stubbornly denying the weakness gnawing at my limbs. Yet, the room continued its relentless dance, and my legs wavered beneath me.
"You don't look fine. Let me help you to a chair," Nash insisted, his supportive grip guiding us to the nearest seat. My mind was a turbulent sea of confusion and fear. Poison? Illness? The uncertainty tightened its grip, my panic mounting. My atte
