KRUE
The glass of water is still cold in my hand when I reach the bedroom door.
I push it open.
Daphne is on the floor.
The glass slips from my hand. Hits the carpet. Water spreads in a dark stain.
I'm across the room before I've registered moving.
She's curled on her side, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around her head. Her whole body is shaking—violent tremors that make her teeth chatter.
"Daphne."
No response.
I drop to my knees beside her. Reach for her shoulder.
She flinches so hard she slams into the bedframe.
"Don't touch me—" Her voice is raw. Broken. "Please don't—"
"It's me." I pull my hand back. "It's Krue. You're safe."
"Don't—can't—" She can't finish. Can't seem to pull enough air in to speak.
She's hyperventilating. I've seen this before. Warriors after
