Page 226 of Nico


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Why not take the next step?

I get out of the car and shut the door, already deciding.

Tonight we talk about the warehouse.

And then soon, I talk to her.

Chapter Forty One

Erica

The front door clicks shut behind me, and the sound feels too loud.

The living room lights are low. The hospital bed sits in the middle of the room, part of the furniture now—white rails, a tangle of tubing, the quiet hum of the oxygen concentrator. Dad is a shape under a blanket, breathing slowly but steadily.

The in-home nurse is standing by the foot of the bed with her bag zipped and her coat already on.

“Kendra?” I ask, and my voice comes out hushed automatically, like we’re in a church.

She turns.

Kendra Mills is in her forties, hair pulled back tight in a low ponytail, scrubs under a winter jacket, practical shoes. She has the kind of calm face that makes you want to hand her your panic and let her hold it.

“Hey,” she says softly. “He’s sleeping.”

Relief hits so fast it makes my eyes sting.

“Okay,” I whisper. “Okay. How was he?”

Kendra’s expression shifts—not alarm, not casual. But something that puts me on alert.

“He ran a bit of a fever earlier,” she says.

My stomach drops anyway.

“A fever?” I repeat, and I hate how small my voice sounds.

Kendra nods once, already reaching for her clipboard, even though she likely has it all memorized.

“It was low-grade,” she says. “I took it twice to be sure. I called the doctor’s service and spoke to the on-call. They said if it went any higher, you bring him in.”

My throat goes dry.

“But it levelled out,” she adds quickly. “It’s down now. He’s been stable for the last hour.”

I exhale hard through my nose, almost dizzy with the release.

“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it so much it hurts. “Thank you for calling.”

“Of course,” she says. “I’d rather overreact than miss something.”

I nod, swallowing around the tightness in my throat.

“Did he eat anything?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

Kendra’s mouth presses into a thin line of sympathy.

“A few sips,” she says. “He wasn’t interested in much more.”