“You’re pale. Sit. Down.”

I blink hard like I can push back the stars crowding my vision if I just will them away. But they’re dancing and spinning. My hand slips off the guitar strings and everything feels too hot and too heavy and too—

The room tilts.

“Jennie!”

Leo’s voice cuts through the fog right as my knees buckle. But I don’t hit the floor and I don’t feel the rug. I feel him.

Strong arms. A quick catch. The wood of the guitar thuds harmlessly beside us while he lowers me onto the couch, and his breath is tangled with worry.

“I’m fine,” I whisper, though my head...