“I just can’t believe this is happening,” I say, my voice breaking a little. “This is

like some sort of nightmare.”

“Yeah, it is,” Anton agrees, the exhaustion evident in his voice. “The timing

couldn’t be worse.”

The timing is beyond terrible; it’s catastrophic. I close my eyes for a moment,

taking in the sounds around me—the muffled chatter of people on their morning

commute, the distant laughter of a group of teenagers on the way to school, the

soft cooing of a baby.

Life is moving on, unfazed by my little disaster. I wish I could say the same for

myself. Because right now, I feel like I’m trapped in a motionless void of

Enter title…

suffering.

you need to rest, Anton,” I

those things. Bad luck, or fate, or whatever

call it.”

luck doesn’t even begin to cover it,”

“Get better, Anton.

red ‘end call’ button on my

how come I’m

everyone else did, right?”

dish, did you?” Anton’s voice

realization in it.

I think back to last night. “Oh right, the

didn’t. I’m allergic.”

tenses. “That must be it, Abby. That has

Someone should check on

wave of dread washes over me.

let us not panic yet,” Anton counters,

anyone else

do that, Anton.

especially since I cannot

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