A sharp sting lanced through Angelica's hand, dragging her back to consciousness. Someone was touching her raw, exposed fingertips.
She forced her eyelids open.
Through the haze, a cluster of long red hair swayed in the dim light.
"Ella," she croaked. Her throat felt like it was lined with glass.
The figure jerked back and looked up. The disappointment hit Angelica harder than the pain.
It wasn't the sharp, cold face of her sister. It was the annoying girl from the club.
"Can you hear me?" the girl whispered, her voice hushed but frantic. "Hey. Stay with me. Are you still in there?"
"Why are you shouting?" Angelica muttered, though the words barely left her dry lips.
Lana was panicking.
Sweat slicked her forehead. Her chest rose and fell too fast, like she had sprinted the entire way down. Her eyes kept flicking toward the dark corner of the room.
