The Rising

Cover The Rising
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Genres: Fiction
I was home in my own bed and Dad was sitting beside me, wiping my face with a cold cloth, saying nothing, just looking after me, as he’d done all of the rare times I was sick. Mom took care of me, too, but she did it by making soup and herbal tea and keeping my bedding fresh and dry and getting my medicine on time. She needed to keep busy. Dad was the one who’d just sit with me.
I wallowed in the dream even after I realized that’s all it was. Slowly, though, I started waking and I felt the real
... burn of fever and the roil of nausea. Someone really was at my bedside, wiping my face. My first thought was “Daniel,” and I opened my eyes, smiling, then saw Calvin Antone beside me. I scrambled back, hissing before I realized I was in human form. My stomach lurched and I retched. Antone grabbed a bowl from the floor and pushed it at me, but I shoved it away and sat up, clutching the sheets and looking around.
I was in a bed, dressed in a T-shirt and pajama pants. A man I didn’t recognize stood just inside the door.
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