Beside them, Connor and the Françesca twins gave me concerned glances, but they said nothing, maintaining our veil of composure and control.
I was amazed at their coolness and well-bred demeanor. I could do no less.
I froze my face into a mask of calm indifference, desperate to hide the growing nausea and chills which were wracking my body and shaking me so hard I could barely stand.
At this point, I no longer cared about sweaty palms. I just wanted to remain standing.
"I'm fine. Really I am," I tried to reassure the men but nobody was buying my lies.
I didn't feel fine. In fact, I felt sick as a dog.
I had been bedridden for almost two weeks, and the combination of the heat, stress, and noise, was causing my body to relapse.
