The search for the knowledge of Gwen’s father had come to a temporary and dissatisfactory close. Yet for the time being it would have to do. Gwen was lying on her bed, receiving a tantalizing backrub from Graves when a slicing pain shot across her chest. She clenched her fists, curling into a tiny ball. The pain was something she was unprepared for. She had felt worse, but the surprise coupled with the instant worry the pain caused was nothing she could handle.
Any time there was pain in her chest, there was trouble.