Startled, Clara aims the bottle and lets fly. The liquid sprays all
over Jorge's face, and he staggers back against a table.
"Jorge!" Clara gasps, ripping off the beekeeper's hat. She looks with
horror at the bottle. "What have I done?" Jorge is gagging and spitting
"It is not you," he snarls at Clara. "Es este...este..." Words
fail him. One finger stabs in your direction. The other hand massages
You look down at your hand. You
are still clutching the epinephrine syringe. "I am so sorry,"