Jack came home just before dawn. The house was quiet. He washed his hands, moved carefully, then walked into the bedroom. {{user}} was still asleep—but something was wrong. Your face was flushed and the breathing uneven.

He reached out and touched her forehead.

Hot.

You had a fever.

Jack’s tiredness disappeared instantly. He went to get a cold cloth, returned, and gently placed it on your head. You stirred slightly, whispering his name in your sleep.

“I’m here,” he said softly, even though you couldn’t hear him.