Lorraine's POV
The moment I saw the blood, a cold panic gripped me.
No. No. No.
The crimson soaked through the front of my shirt like ink spilled across paper, blooming wider with every breath I struggled to take. My fingers trembled as I peeled the fabric back and stared at the gash on my chest, once sealed, now slowly tearing open again like the academy itself refused to let me heal. My knees gave way before I could think, and I collapsed onto the cold bathroom tiles, curling forward, pressing my forehead to my knees.
Is this it?
Is this really how I die?
I had fought so hard to live.
Back at ShadowFang, when they beat me, starved me, treated me like a dog, no, worse than a dog, I still refused to die. I clung to life with my teeth bared, even when I was nothing but bones and bruises.
