Chapter Seventy-Four. Pamela Adams.
Pain in my infected leg shoots through me, making me cry out in my sleep, effectively waking me up at three am. I attempt to turn over, but that in itself is excruciating. I bite down on my lip to halt the tiny squeal that is threatening to break free from my lips, not wanting to risk waking up my mam. Bless her, she is worried, and I don’t want to make her concerns worse than I am going to when I head out to school with Smithy tomorrow. I know she is already going to pitch a fit when I announce I am leaving the house for an hour or so. Yesterday was a boring pain infused day sitting at the hospital, waiting for someone to examine the wound on my ‘good’ leg, where they operated to catch the blood clot. Eventually they saw me, gave me some antibiotics,
