As the syringe plunged the green liquid into Esme's veins, her body went limp, drifting into a deep, unnatural sleep. Ryan, with his jaw clenched, scooped her up and gently laid her onto the bed. Jay rushed to cover her, pulling the blanket over her as if that simple act could shield her from the torment that clung to her unconscious state.
The room was thick with silence, except for the shallow rise and fall of Esme's chest. Ray, standing a few feet away, broke the tension with a sharp, serious tone. "What's going on with her?" His eyes were fixed on Esme, but the question was aimed at Ryan, waiting for an answer that might ease the unease gnawing at him.
Ryan's gaze never left Esme as he responded, his voice calm but carrying a weight that didn't match his expression. "It's the poison. It's still in her."
