Nodding, he goes into her bathroom and flips the light on. I hear drawers opening and closing, then he shuts the light back off, and comes back with a digital onein his hand.
“Thanks, do you think you can grab me a bottle of water or maybe a sports drink if you guys still have them?” I ask. I need to strip her down, and I don’t want him to be here.
“Yeah. I’ll go grab one,” he offers, running out.
Focusing my attention back on her, I take her temperature and see it’s close to 102.Not good.Grabbing her shorts, I pull them gently down her legs and toss them in the basket I see by her door. Ignoring the desire I feel looking at her bare legs, I pull the blanket up higher on her.
When Noah gets back with the water, I thank him and send him back downstairs. “Baby,” I murmur. “Cora, I need you to wake up for a minute.”
She’s so out of it but still curls closer toward me. “Here, you need to take these.” I shake a fever reducer into my palm and help her sit up. “Come on, take a few sips for me,” I coax her.
“Atlas?” Her eyes open as she leans up against me. “Why are you here? You need to—” A coughing fit cuts her off. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“There’s nowhere else I need to be. Now, here, shush and take these. You have a fever, sweetheart. Please just don’t fight me on this.” I watch with satisfaction when she relents and takes the pills, downing them with the water.
“I’ll be fine,” she groans. “Can you plug my phone in, and see if my alarm is set? Noah has school tomorrow. Can’t be late,” she whispers as she falls back asleep.
Plugging in her phone, I go in, notate what time she has alarms set for, and shut them off. She needs rest. Taking a peek through her phone, I skim through her messages. Some might call it an invasion of privacy, but I call it information gathering. I need to know who she messaged recently.
Satisfaction goes through me when I don’t see Matt’s name anywhere recent, but that thrill is quickly replaced with concern.
There’s no one.What the fuck?How are the last messages she sent to me, and whoever Annie is? I’m assuming she works at thelibrary because Cora messaged her to say she would be out sick for the day.Why didn’t she message me, or anyone for help?Glancing down at my girl, I switch her phone to silent and head downstairs.
Noah is parked on the couch, and I know it’s now well after nine. Standing next to the sofa, I gesture at it, silently asking if I can sit. Noah shrugs his shoulders, so I take that as an invitation to join him.
I figured a kid his age would be watching something with superheroes in it or a cartoon, but not this one. He’s watching a show about insects. “Are you into bugs?” I ask him. He’s important to Cora and seems like an okay kid.
“It’s quiet,” he responds.
“Quiet?” I ask in confusion.
“Yeah. My shows are loud, and I don’t want to wake up Cora,” he explains, making my chest crack. He’s watching some show about bugs so he doesn’t wake her up.
“That’s nice of you.” Looking around the room, I take in the photos of the two of them, noticing the lack of other people in them. Testing the waters, I tune out the show and ask, “So, is it just the two of you?”
“Yep.”
“Oh? So… no dad?”
“No.”
A part of me doesn’t want to keep pressing, but I can’t deny I’m curious. Taking another look at the photos, I see some of the early ones look like he can’t be more than two or three. “Gotcha.” He looks uncomfortable, so I drop it, and we go back to watching a documentary about fireflies, by the looks of it. I’m paying only partial attention to it.
“They’re dead,” he blurts out.
I’m stunned silent for a minute. I don’t know what to say about that.
Wait, he saidthey’redead.
“Our parents died when I was two. Cora takes care of me.” He glancesat me briefly.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” So, she’s not his mom, just his sister.
What else do you say to a seven-year-old whose parents are dead? I can’t ignore the small part of me that’s glad Cora doesn’t have a kid with someone else. One less person to get rid of.
“It’s whatever.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I have Cora.”
A piece of my heart breaks for Cora, and in its place, Noah slides in. “So, it’s just the two of you? No other people?” I ask, fishing for answers when he should be in bed. Pretty sure it’s a school night.
