Bright blue eyes hover inches from my face. My muscles scream as I jerk back, head thudding against the pillow.
"Good morning, sunshine!" Eliana's manic grin stretches wider. "How's my favorite test subject feeling today?"
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth; when I swallow, it's like sandpaper dragging down my throat. The pain has me grimacing.
"She needs water." Her voice cracks like a whip.
Dr. Reeves materializes beside the bed, his face an expressionless mask. He has a styrofoam cup in hand, with a pink straw.
"Small sips," he says.
Sucking greedily and ignoring his instructions, I draw in cool water as fast as I can, swallowing with gratitude. I want to gulp more down, but Dr. Reeves pulls the cup back every so often, forcing me to pace myself.
