The panic of never escaping this maze — of Ezra slipping into a state of unresponsive delusion — swelled so intensely in her chest that Rosalie had to bite back a scream of frustration. She had to get him out of here, whether it was to the floo or the party or the garden at her grandmother's estate (her safe haven) she didn't care, she just needed to get him out. Then, they could maybe discuss what sort of worse he meant and why he was refusing the hospital. (She refused to consider that Ezra wouldn't elaborate on both subjects.)

"Are you stable enough for me to apparate?" Rosie managed to ask through the fear in her chest. The two paths still loomed before them as she stood too scared to take the wrong one. "I don't know my way out."

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