Evangeline’s POV The excruciating pain takes my breath away. As I clutch my chest, “Ana” is all I can say. This is Anabelle’s pain. I can’t do anything to help her. I can’t lift my head, never mind get to my feet. Kristopher kicks me as he thrashes around uncontrollably. After what feels like an eternity, the sharp intensity of the pain reduces. The only healer I know is right next to me, so I know what that means. Anabelle’s body is shutting down as she dies. Getting on all fours, I try to get to my feet. But I slipped and had to hold on to the countertop for support. Something plastic crunches under my hand. “You need to save Anabelle,” I yell at Kristopher, who is still lying on the ground. He gets to his feet a lot easier than I did, but he continues to hold his chest. As I let go of the counter, the plastic tray I am crushing falls flat, and a syringe rolls into the center of the tray. I hesitate, and Kristopher grabs my arm, trying to pull me along. I grab the syringe, know
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