Chapter 13: White Threat
But the method... the method would require trust, vulnerability, and a level of intimacy that seemed impossible to explain or justify to two strangers, no matter how desperate the circumstances.
My hand moved instinctively to my face, and before I could stop myself, I’d slapped my own cheek hard enough to leave it stinging. Rebecca jumped at the sudden sound, raising her knife higher.
"Sorry," I muttered, feeling heat flood my face. "I just... I need to think."
How could I possibly explain what I’d learned about my abilities? How could I tell them that there was a cure, but it required something that sounded insane, perverted, impossible? How could I ask Rachel to trust me with something so intimate when she was fighting for her sanity and her sister was standing right there with a knife pointed at my chest?
Heat flooded my cheeks as the reality of what I had to do crashed over me.
My stomach churned with a nauseating mixture of embarrassment and desperation. The very thought of it made my skin crawl, yet I couldn’t escape the crushing weight of necessity bearing down on my shoulders.
Time was my enemy now, ticking away with merciless precision. Each second that passed brought Rachel closer to the point of no return—that terrifying threshold where her humanity would slip away forever.
Once the final transformation completed, my unique ability would become useless I was sure of it. You can’t cure what’s already biologically dead.
Emily’s words echoed in my mind at that time.
She basically said that ’With great power comes great responsibility’.
And damn it, she was right—even now, even when following her advice felt impossible.
I couldn’t just stand here, paralyzed by my own discomfort, while a good woman died. Rachel didn’t deserve that fate.