Chapter 142: Tragedy, Part 3
"When you were sick." Korin licked his lips, and only then did Telmé notice his bottom lip was bleeding, as though torn open by teeth. "You were twisted, contorted, in pain. You screamed" He shook his head, brushed away an errant lock of hair with a trembling hand. "I kept you alive but only barely. What's going on?" His voice trembled, and he sank his teeth into his lip again to still it.
Telmé curled his free hand against a strange urge to reach up and nudge him gently into stopping. He focused on his steps, headed for the main stairwell. He paused when they reached it, uncertain as to which way he should go. Upstairs? He ached with a need to know if his family was alive, or if they'd died like all the rest, but a scream lodged in his throat at the idea of seeing his mothers contorted, frozen in the middle of screams of pain.