“He spiked your drink.”

“He what?!”

Armand sighs, fiddling with the small glass between his fingers. His gaze is frozen.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Well, it kind of just went black.. my head whirred, my surroundings disappeared.. and— agh!”

A blistering pain throbs at my head. My heartbeat pounds loudly in my ears, although it sounds awfully scratchy and high pitched.

“Take this.”

Armand rolls a small glass tube to my end of the table. It rumbles against the wood, clinking as I catch it just as it nearly hits the ground.

A black liquid sloshes around the tube, and for a second I see it glimmer somehow.

“What is it?”

“Josh gave it to me before he left. ‘Guess he felt sorry for you.”

I narrow my eyebrows and slam the tube back onto the table before it even reaches my lips.

“Sorry for me? I spent months searching for him and he nearly killed me!”

Armand has no reaction. As always, his demeanour is nonchalant, and he stretches his legs under the table while ruffling his jet black hair.

“Well, you better get some rest if you’re still going after him.”

I scoff. “Who said I was?”

As he gets up, the back of his legs push his chair backwards. “You’re easy to read.”

“What? How?”

For a slight second I swear I see a flash of a smirk on his face. He taps the table gently.

“It’s your eyes. You’re always processing so much.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Figure it out for yourself. Good luck finding Josh.”