The parents laughed.
As we left that home, Adele leaned into me.You were sweet to do that. You made it easier for them and me.
I squeezed her hand.We’re in this together.
By the time we’d finished the last visit, Adele’s notebook was filled with observations, sketches, theories crossed out and rewritten.
“I need to compare this data with what we collected at Silvervale,” she said as we walked back toward our quarters. “There’s something different, but I can’t?—”
She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes going distant.
“What?” I asked.
“The timing. At Silvervale, the sneezing was worst at dawn and dusk. Here it’s shifted about an hour later.”
“That’s significant?”
“It could be.” She chewed her lip, thinking. “If it’s related to sun exposure, temperature changes, or air currents, the timing would shift based on elevation and orientation. Silvervale faces more eastward, and it catches morning sun earlier. Goldwing faces south, where the sun hits later.”
“You’re saying it could be atmospheric.”
“Maybe. Probably.” She shook her head. “But I still don’t know what’s causing it. And why are these babies coughing when they aren’t at Silvervale? That suggests a respiratory irritant, but what kind? And why the variance?”
I wanted to fix this for her. Wanted to solve it so she didn’t have to carry this weight. But this wasn’t something I could fight or negotiate. This required her expertise and her specific magic.
All I could do was support her.
“You’ll figure it out,” I said.
“What if I don’t?”
“You will.” I pulled her close. “Because you’re smart and stubborn and you don’t give up. And because I believe in you.”
She looked up at me, vulnerability in her eyes. “I’m terrified of failing them.”
“I know, but you won’t.”
We made it back to our suite, and Adele spread her notes across the table, comparing observations from both courts. I watched her work, fascinated by the way her mind moved, connecting pieces I couldn’t see.
She muttered to herself, drawing diagrams, crossing things out, only to start over.
Hours passed. I ordered food brought to the room, sat and ate with her, then watched her dive back into the work.
“I keep coming back to the coughing,” she said, not looking up. “Sneezingandcoughing. Why?”
“Different elevation?”
“Maybe. Or different air composition, different minerals in the area, differen…” She trailed off, flipping through pages. “The wind patterns are the same. The timing is offset but follows the same daily cycle. The altitude is comparable. So what’s different?”
I moved behind her, resting my hands on her shoulders. The muscles there were tight with tension. “You need a break.”
“I need an answer.”
“You need both.” I started working on the knots.
She sighed, some of the rigidity leaving her body. “That feels amazing.”
“Good.” I kept working, feeling her gradually relax under my hands. “Your brain performs better when you’re not wound tight enough to snap.”
