There had been no warning symptoms, nothing to suggest that anything was wrong. But suddenly, here I was, seeing myself hunched over the toilet, vomiting uncontrollably.
Once I had emptied what little was in my stomach, I flushed the toilet, rinsed my mouth, and splashed cold water on my face. Taking a deep breath, I stood up, bracing myself against the sink. My reflection in the mirror stared back at me in confusion.
Pressing the back of my hand to my neck, I frowned. My skin was burning.
“Huh? Malaria? How?” I muttered under my breath.
Shaking my head, I turned away and opened the door—only to find Raphael standing there, hands shoved into his pockets. His lips curled into a small smile, and I couldn’t help but feel confused. What could possibly be amusing right now?
“Why are you sm
