"No butterflies," Faye repeated, feeling her breath leave her in the softest of sighs, even as her heart continued to thud, hard and quick against her chest. Pressing her hand there, Faye ran the other through her hair, as though gently coaxing could bring back all thought and help surface an answer. "Maybe..."

She could hardly believe the suspicion that was building. It was almost optimistic.

"Maybe these don't have the virus. Maybe I'm freaking out, and they're just marbles," she sighed, picking a handful out of the sand and pressing them close to her palm.