Chapter 44 Forty-four

• I wake to cold seeping into my bones—the kind of cold that has nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with something being fundamentally wrong inside my body.
• My muscles refuse to cooperate when I try to sit up. Sweat drips down my forehead despite the chill wracking through me, splashing onto my trembling hands. I stare at my palms—slick, glistening, and confusion crashes through my foggy mind.
• Why am I sweating when I'm freezing?