Jasmine's POV
Sleep had abandoned me completely. Every time I closed my eyes, those worn brown leather shoes appeared in my mind, sending waves of nausea through my stomach. The morning sun crept across my bedroom floor, but its golden rays felt cold against my skin.
Yesterday's revelation consumed every thought. The man who had injected me during my first shift was Sylvia's father. The memory made my hands shake uncontrollably.
A gentle tap interrupted my tormented thoughts. Aunt Naia entered quietly, concern etched across her weathered features.
"You haven't rested at all," she observed, studying my exhausted face.
I could only manage a weak shake of my head. She approached slowly, her expression growing more worried with each step. "Your whole body is trembling, sweet child," she murmured, guiding me toward the bed.
