Caleb’s voice penetrated the deep slumber I’d fallen under, bringing me back to reality. “Daphne?”
The heel of my palm dug into my eyes, producing pockets of light until they finally adjusted to the lightbulb above. I opened my lips to speak, swallowing a hard, sharp knot in my throat. It only became more painful when I spoke—or tried to speak—the sound of a frail, dying toad leaping out of my throat instead of an actual voice. A shock of hot electricity shot through the neckline. My hand slowly found its way to the burning skin of my neck, hot and swollen.
“Take it easy,” he cooed, placing a gentle hand on mine, leading me away from the aching bruise. Still, a finger fell on the hallow beneath my throat, my eyes burning with the question: What happened?
All I could remember were run
