"What happened?"
The question shouldn't have been so difficult to answer, yet it tightened something in Blake's chest more than the pain already there. It was such a simple question. Too simple for the way his heart was trembling.
"Ah… well, actually—" He coughed, the sound rough and shallow. The ache in his chest stole the air from his lungs, and his eyes welled up as he tried to keep speaking. "I think I'm dying. I was probably poisoned or something."
Silence followed.
Not the ordinary kind. The line went so still Blake wondered if the call had dropped. There wasn't even the faint sound of breathing.
"You aren't dying," Myles said at last, calm and immediate, as if the conclusion had already been reached long before Blake spoke.
Blake huffed a weak breath that might have been a laugh if he'd had the strength for it. Something strange curled in his chest at the certainty in Myles's voice.
Was he… believing him?
"If you say so," Blake murmured. "How can you te—"
