ELY
I finished getting ready for the renowned architect's conference. My hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and I was dressed in a dark blue office suit, a white shirt, and black high heels—always impeccably sober. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit me, and the room began to spin.
I closed my eyes and started to breathe slowly, in and out. I sat down and looked in the mirror, noticing my face had lost its color—my cheeks were no longer rosy.
I went to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. After a few minutes, the feeling subsided. I dried my face and decided to apply a little blush. I didn't want my mother to notice anything was wrong. She'd immediately send me to the doctor, and I didn't have time for that right now.
I went downstairs and greeted my mother. My father left
