[The Sickness]The Alpine air outside was a scream, but inside the SUV, as they roared away from the chapel, the silence was a suffocating shroud. Dante’s hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, his jaw set so tight it looked ready to shatter. The tablet lay between them, the flickering image of the child—their child—burned into the back of Ivy’s retinas.But as the road began to twist through the lower passes, the vehicle swerved.Dante let out a sound—a low, visceral grunt of pain that Ivy hadn’t heard since the first night in the Palisades. His skin, usually the color of olive and gold, had turned a sickly, translucent grey. Sweat poured from his brow, matting his dark hair to his temples."Dante?" Ivy reached out, her fingers brushing his neck. He was burning. Not with the heat of his usual obsession, but with a clinical, violent fever."Don't..." he gasped, his chest heaving. He slammed the brakes, the car skidding to a halt on the edge of a precipice. "The scratches...
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-01-28 อ่านเพิ่มเติม