Page 49 of North

He was running a slight fever when I tucked him into bed last night and I gave him Tylenol. I woke up a few times to check on him, but at some point, he must have slipped out of bed.

The soft glow of the living room light spills into the hall, and I follow it. As I turn the corner, I spot him on the couch, sprawled awkwardly with one arm draped over his forehead. His breathing is ragged, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his face.

I creep quietly to his side and kneel next to him. Up close, he looks worse—pale, damp and shivering, despite the blanket tangled around him. I put my hand lightly on his chest.

His eyelids flutter open, and he groans. “What’re you doing up?”

“What amIdoing up? What areyoudoing out here?” I place the back of my hand on his forehead, and the heat radiating off him makes my stomach lurch. “You’re burning up.”

“I was too hot in the room,” he rasps, his voice scratchy and weak. “Didn’t wanna wake you. Or get you sick.”

“Well, now you’re out here freezing.” I pull the blanket tighter around him, but he shivers violently, curling in on himself. “North, this is bad. You’re burning up andshaking like a leaf.”

He tries to wave me off. “I’m fine. Just need to rest—”

“No, you don’t need to rest. You need to see a doctor.” I push up from the floor and retrieve the thermometer from the master bathroom where I’d left it last night.

“Open up,” I say, holding it out.

He grumbles but does as he’s told, and a few seconds later, it beeps. I look at the screen and feel my heart drop.

“North, your temp is 104.” I check my watch and grimace. “And I gave you Tylenol just a few hours ago. We’re going to the emergency room.”

He shakes his head weakly. “No need. It’ll pass.”

“Don’t argue with me,” I snap as I rise from the floor. “You’re burning up, and you’re supposed to catch a flight later this morning. What’s your plan? Infect the entire team?”

“I’ll be fine,” he insists, trying to sit up. His body gives out halfway, and he collapses back onto the couch. His eyes are glazed as if he’s not all there and he looks like a strong wind would blow him over. I don’t know how he got so bad so fast. “Just need to sleep.”

“Yeah, that’s convincing.” I grab his shoes and crouch next to him. “Come on. We’re going.”

I hastily dress but getting him to the truck is an ordeal. He puts most of his weight on me as we shuffle tothe passenger side, his arm draped over my shoulders. Once he’s settled, I circle around to the driver’s seat and climb in. That’s when I realize just how enormous this thing is.

“This stupid truck sits like twenty feet off the ground,” I grumble, adjusting the seat so I can reach the pedals.

“Careful,” he croaks, a hint of amusement in his tired voice. “You’ll hurt her feelings.”

“Her feelings?” I glance at him, incredulous. “You named your truck?”

He manages a weak grin. “Guinevere.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re yanking my chain,” I chuckle, gripping the wheel. “I’ve never driven anything this big. What if I crash it?”

“You won’t crash it,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just take it slow. You’re good at following directions.”

I shoot him a look. “You’re lucky you’re dying right now, or I’d argue.”

He chuckles weakly, but it turns into a coughing fit that has me gripping the wheel tighter. I focus on the road, trying not to panic as I navigate the quiet streets. North murmurs occasional instructions, his voice growing fainter with each passing minute.

When we pull up to the emergency room, I kill the engine and rush to his side. He’s barely holding himselfup as I help him out of the truck, his weight heavy against me. Inside, the receptionist eyes us with boredom until I see the recognition hit her as she takes in North.

“Mr. Paquette?” she asks, her voice a mix of surprise and concern. “You look… awful.”

“Yes,” I say briskly. “He’s running a high fever, terrible cough and needs to see someone now.”

She nods quickly, typing into her computer. “Let me just get some information and then he’ll get triaged.”

Within fifteen minutes we have him checked in and someone takes his vitals, then we’re in the waiting room, which is thankfully not that busy. I guide North to a small, two-person couch isolated from others and he slumps onto it beside me. His head drops to my shoulder, and I can feel the heat radiating off him even through my sweater.

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