I've fiddled with my mother’s ring more times in the last 2 days than I've done in 20 years.Everything is coming apart fast. I love fast. I crave it, but this is something else entirely.“You look awful,” Clarissa says beside me.“It's nice to see you too, Clary,” I lie. I can't genuinely remember the last time I felt happy or grateful to be in the same room as her.“I didn't mean it insultingly, Ryker. I mean you look awful, sick. Since our encounter with John, you’ve seemed so… pale.”I face her, surprised to see her assessing me sincerely.The truth is, I have felt a little off, like there’s a constant cold waving through me, but it's not like after my fight with John things just went back to normal. It's been a rough few days. When all this is over, I'm sure I'll be able to take a nap, grab a burger, and do anything to get my familiar glow back.I contemplate telling her the truth, and I decide on simply saying, “I've just been a little chilly.”She looks at me a moment longer, l
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