“You’re just insulting me now. Nobody is dying today, if I can help it.” Doolittle said. His voice faded, growing weaker and weaker. “You’re safe. Your maniac is just outside the door, watching over you. Rest now. Rest . . .”

•   •   •

I WOKE UP because someone was looking at me. The room was dim. My body felt heavy. I was so tired. All my systems were shutting down one by one. I couldn’t tell which symptoms came from the stroke, which from the sedative. I was lost and I couldn’t pull myself together.

The soft electric glow of a floor lamp illuminated a teenage girl sitting by my bed. She was pale and blond and, against that light backdrop, her huge brown eyes stood out like two dark pools.

She was important. She was vitally important to me.

Julie.

“Kate,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Kate?”

“Yes?” I managed.

“It’s me, Julie. Are you dying?”

I could tell she desperately wanted a different answer. “I love you.”

The expression on her face twisted something inside me.

I looked from her to Curran. “I love you so much. Both . . .”

“You can’t die.” She grabbed my hand. Tears swelled in her eyes. “You’re all I have. Kate, please. Please don’t die.”

My head hurt so much. I didn’t like that she was crying. I had to make her better. “It will be okay.”

“Kate, don’t leave me.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair!”

The door swung open.

“Do I need to put a lock on this door?” Doolittle asked.

“Come on.” Curran appeared by the bed, took Julie by her shoulders, and gently but firmly pulled her away from my bed.

“Is she dying?” Julie pulled against him.

“She will be okay,” he told her.

“What if she won’t be? What if she—”

The door closing behind them cut off the rest of her words.

I’d never felt so helpless.

“Home,” I told Doolittle.

“Soon,” he promised.

Liar. I had to get out of here. I didn’t want to end my life in this hospital bed. I had spent too long without magic, and my body was giving out. I felt weaker and weaker. They had to take me home. I wanted to die in our house. “Too long . . .”

“You’ve only been in here a few hours. It feels longer because you keep waking up despite the sedative.”

“Julie.”

“Julie will be fine. You don’t have to worry about that right now,” he said. “Focus on healing. Rest.”

•   •   •

I WOKE UP to pain. My brain was slow and confused. My mouth tasted like medicine. I was so tired. I was sinking deeper and deeper into the murky water of pain and exhaustion. I knew the signs. My body was giving out. Why wouldn’t they just let me go home . . .