“What’re you talking about?” I said. Fear gripped me more when I noticed how red his eyes were. He looked so sick, yet so furious and I seemed to be the cause.

“Lance, please relax.”

Gray placed a palm on Lance’s shoulder but he pushed him off.

“The tea,” Lance responded.

He glared hard at me and I gulped.

“What about the tea?” I asked, fidgeting.

His glare hardened but he began coughing so hard that he had to grip onto his chest for support. I watched in horror how he did not seem to stop coughing, he slipped off the table he was holding and landed on the ground,...