I was on my way to work on the day the first of them died. I was en route with a cup of coffee and a newspaper in hand when I first heard the screams. I’m not sure how, but I knew immediately whatever was wrong was my doing. I dropped my briefcase and ran for the town square - it was a cold winter morning and my lungs burned, but I didn’t slow my pace. Only did I come to a halt when I reached the crowd already forming on the sidewalk in front of The Red Oak Tavern.

“Move!” I ordered, pushing through the crowd. No one protested or tried to stop me - they thought I was there to help, no doubt. But when I finally laid eyes on the crumpled body of the young woman in front of me, I knew the truth was entirely the opposite.

“Helena,” I whispered, crouching down beside her. She was curled into an almost fetal position and her eyes were wide open and the strangest shade of milky green. For a moment I pictured her in life - broad smile spread across her face, blue eyes sparkling. In death, she was so gaunt, so… inhuman? Something about this was extremely unsettling, almost otherworldly.

“She was better,” choked out a soft voice from behind me. I didn’t turn. I knew if I did, I’d find myself face to face with Helena’s little sister, Elodie. “You made her better, and now she’s…” Now she’s dead. Now she’s dead and whatever I did to heal her didn’t work. Now she’s dead and… and what if what I did to save her is what killed her? I shuddered, trying to physically shake away the thought. No, this had to be something else. None of the people I’d healed had ever died before. At least, not in such a strange and sudden manor. It couldn’t be my doing, there was simply no way.