"Cheers—" Felicity's laugh cut across the small living room and Kinsley lifted her plastic cup like she was part of a scene she'd seen in a movie.
"To finally being done," Javiera said, loud and bright. "No more late labs. No more finals."
"I signed for that toast," Felicity said, tipping her head back. "Kins, you survived the semester."
Kinsley smiled and tried to match them. "Barely."
"You're dramatic," Felicity teased. "You owe me coffee tomorrow."
Kinsley blinked. "I—"
She blinked again because the light on the ceiling tore at the edges of her vision. Her cup rattled against the table.
"Hey, you okay?" Javiera reached out. "You look white."
Kinsley put her fingers to her temples. "I can't see—"
The words came soft, wrong. Her knees gave. The couch rushed at her face and then everything went thick and gone.
"Sit down!" Felicity shoved her phone into her friend's hands and pulled Kinsley up. "Kins, answer me. Kins!"
"She's not responding," Javiera said, voice tight. "Call an ambulance."
Felicity's fingers hovered over 911. The flat condensed into urgent noises—the kettle whistling forgotten, a playlist still muffled in the corner, the announcer on a game show outside. Felicity's voice kept threading through, furious and small.
"Why did you drink so much? Who gave her that—"
"It wasn't alcohol," Javiera snapped. "Her pupils are fixed. Someone stay with her. Fel, call the building."
Felicity yanked the intercom. "Security! Apartment two—medical emergency
