[ELARA'S POV]
Julian lasted three weeks before he ended up in the hospital.
I found him on the bathroom floor at two am. The sound of retching had woken me. By the time I got there he was slumped against the bathtub, skin the color of old paper, shaking so hard his teeth clattered.
"Don't tell Damian." His voice came out reedy. Thin. "Please."
My fingers went numb reaching for my phone anyway. I called 911 first. Then Damian.
The paramedics arrived in eight minutes. Damian in six. He came through the bathroom door already in motion, already scanning Julian's vitals like he could diagnose him through sheer force of will.
"What happened?" He dropped to his knees beside his brother.
"Threw up blood." Julian's lips barely moved. "A lot of it."
The paramedics got him on a stretcher. One of them, young guy with kind eyes, kept glancing at me like he was worried I might faint. My hand had found my stomach without permission. Covering. Protecting.
