Seraphina's Point Of View
I didn't know how long I stayed on that bathroom floor.
Time stopped being something measurable. It turned thick, sticky, like I was drowning inside seconds that refused to pass.
The tiles beneath me were freezing, leeching heat from my skin, but sweat still clung to my back, my chest, my neck.
My body couldn't decide whether it was burning or shutting down.
My heart thudded once.
Then again.
Too hard. Too loud. Too wrong.
Every beat sent a sharp tremor through my chest, like my ribs were too small to contain it. I pressed my palm flat against my sternum, as if I could physically steady it.
"Slow down," I whispered hoarsely. "Please… slow down."
It didn't listen.
Pain rolled through me in waves… deep, squeezing, merciless. Not the kind that screams. The kind that silences you. That steals your breath and replaces it with panic so thick it tastes metallic.
