The other employees began whispering among themselves, the air thick with confusion and ease.
Camille stumbled into the restroom, clutching her stomach as a violent cough tore through her. Blood splattered into the sink—dark, thick.
Why was she feeling like this?
Or... was it the tea?
Could there have been something inside it?
Her eyes widened as realization dawned.
Silverleaf.
Camille lifted her gaze to the mirror. Her reflection was ghastly pale, veins darkening beneath her skin. she pressed a trembling hand against her chest, breath hitching, and staggered toward the door.
If the tea only affected her, then someone had meant to poison her.
Her jaw tightened. Whoever it was would pay.
But first—she needed to survive.
The antidote wasn't here but there was one other way.
She needed fresh blood.
The restroom door creaked. A young employee stepped in, startled by the sight of Camille.
"Miss Sinclair? Are you alright?"
