The blanket swallowed me whole, rough against my skin. I curled up, but the shivers didn't stop.
Cora. I remembered her after thinking what an idiot I was running in that rain for the hundredth time.
That bump in the street. Those beer bottles spilling everywhere. The way the rack collapsed onto her and she flailed, cheeks red, fumbling through excuses that made no sense. She wasn't just clumsy—she was chaos dressed in skin.
Secondhand embarrassment burned me more than the fever. I could still hear the glass cracking on the pavement, smell the foam of cheap beer mixing with the damp scent of rain. She'd looked like a deer stuck in headlights, caught between running away and laughing at herself.
"Strange girl," I whispered to the dark room. My throat rasped with every syllable. "Strange as hell."
