Raquel
December 24th, Christmas Eve. T-minus one day before our heist is a go.
When I wake up that morning, my stomach is a gurgling mess. It’s probably because of nerves. How else can I explain this terrible nausea, my pounding headache, and the constant need to hurl? My whole body is sensitive, burning. Even the faint silver light of morning through the crack in the curtain is enough to agitate me. I decide to get out of bed and grab myself a glass of water.
I make a mad dash to the bathroom and dry heave into the toilet instead.
“Raquel?” Gabriel calls out to me. He knocks on the bathroom door. Thank the merciful gods above I had enough sense to lock it. I really don’t want him to see me like this.
“I’m fine!” I mumble weakly over my shoulder.
“Are you sure?”
I lick my lips, try
