"As long as it takes, asshole."
I polished off the last of my burrito and licked my fingers clean with a shrug. "Better hope you live a long life. I'm done."
Felix stopped me from leaving with a hand on my arm. It was the first time he'd gone that far, and I briefly considered ripping the thing off me. Instead, I just glared down at it.
"You did everything you could. And she's still out there, Riggs. It could've been much worse."
Neither of us had directly talked about what happened, and it took me a moment to process what he was trying to say. Then the rage boiled up out of nowhere. I yanked my arm free of his. "No. It couldn't have been worse. Nothing is worse than becoming one of them. You know that."
Felix shook his head but didn't argue with me.
3
Sylvie
The sound of cars humming along the street below me was comforting. I'd always found something particularly pleasant about the sound of tires on wet asphalt—the crinkle and crunch of rubber trying to grip its way around a turn.
My forehead was resting against the window as I watched the scene below through a condensed haze of moisture on the glass. It had been a hot day, so the cool touch of glass on my skin was pleasant.
Rainy days made me feel like I had company in my bubble, I guessed. For normal people, the clouds and gloom meant a lazy day inside. No frisbee in the park or brisk dog walks. For me, they were business as usual.
Rain, snow, or shine, I mostly stayed inside with my books and my big sister. But it could've been worse. I wasn't in pain. I wasn't technically sick. I had all my arms and legs, and I had the world's most iron-clad excuse to sit around and read all day.
Because healthy people had immune systems that were like personal security for their insides. The better the security, the less likely they were to get sick. I always imagined most people had Liam Neeson phoning up the flu virus the moment somebody within ten miles sneezed.
I will find you. And I will kill you.
I actually couldn't remember if those were the lines. I wasn't much of an action movie kind of girl. Romance was my jam.
But my body didn't have Liam Neeson keeping the germs at bay. It was more like having Paul Blart—the mall cop, for the uninitiated. And honestly, that was probably giving it way too much credit.
If I was being honest, my immune system wasn't even on the same level as an old lady on a scooter with a heavy cane. My body basically had an open-door policy. Bad germs? Come on in! I could thank my mom for that genetic lotto win.
The smell of spaghetti sauce mingling with ground beef drifted from the kitchen towards me. I sniffed deeper, picking up the garlic and basil, too.
My big sister, Maisey, was a halfway good cook. She could season food and follow recipes with the best of them. The problem was she almost always managed to forget to pull things out of the oven or out of the pan soon enough. It meant everything was well-seasoned and then baked, broiled, or fried into oblivion.
Thankfully, tonight she’d whipped everything up and asked me to heat it up around the time she’d be coming back from teaching her yoga class. No burned food tonight. Unless I got too wrapped up in my book.
The rain had finally let up, which meant Chicago's night life was back on schedule. Below me, people were already starting to thicken the crowds on the street below.
Beside me, Gravy Boat purred contentedly. I tried to scratch his ear, but he did his best impersonation of a naked alligator roll—biting my palm while hugging and kicking me.
Once the barrage of kicks and bites was over, he let me go, composed himself, and gave his paw a dignified lick.
I rubbed at the place where his claw had got me while I studied the people below. I focused on a young couple holding hands. The girl was wearing the sort of bright sun dress that made me imagine they hadn't been dating long. The guy looked a little like a former skater guy with the thick black gauge earrings and tattoos, but he had a button-up shirt on. It was cute, and I smiled while I watched him lead her by the hand through the puddles on the sidewalk.
I imagined they were going out for their date. Maybe dinner and then a night spent ice skating. Or maybe they'd just grab takeout and go back to his place to stream a movie.
Once they were gone, I noticed a man by himself. He looked straight out of one of the romance books I liked to read. Square jaw, muscular, and devastatingly handsome. He was waiting at the street corner with his phone out. Maybe he'd called an Uber, I thought. Either way, it gave me plenty of time to creep on him from my perch at the window.