Chapter 87

ISABELLA'S POV

I had actually always thought that the rode to death would be peaceful, a quiet, serene release from the pain of existence.

But the last few days had proven me totally wrong.

The last stages of the trial treatment to cure me from tyrosine poisoning had been nothing short of a brutal war, one that left me swinging on the edge of life and death.

My weak body had been ravaged by side effects, from burning fevers that felt like molten lava coursing through my veins to muscle spasms that left me unable to move, then the pounding in my head that felt so intense that it blacked out the power of my vision.

I was barely aware of being moved from one ward to another, sometimes waking up only to faint voices and distant echoes, really.

My mother’s voice stood out the most, trembling with fear and helplessness.

Other times I would catch fragments of conversations, snippets of her pleading with the doctors.

As for my father, he would pace relentlessly, asking the professionals