The Sickbed
She woke to the sound of voices. They spoke softly, but their tones were urgent.
"It seems the fever has broken. But I cannot guarantee that she won't relapse."
"How long until she is recovered?"
There was silence.
"Answer."
"I-it is impossible to say! A week perhaps? A few days? It could be a week. She is exceptionally fragile, it makes her condition-"
She faded from consciousness again.
When her eyes opened again, she was in a different room. She didn't know how long it had been. There was sunlight coming in through the windows. It must have been afternoon.
She tried to sit up, but she couldn't manage it. Her head ached and her limbs felt weak and sore. Her stomach growled.
She felt nauseous, exhausted, and sick. Her mouth was dry, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her eyes burned, her vision blurred.
She groaned softly and leaned back against the pillows.