When I was a kid, getting sick meant potentially getting Mom sick. During her bad stretches, even a cold could mean a hospitalization. Dad was religious about it—masks, hand washing, keeping out of her room if any of us had even a scratchy throat. It became second nature: if someone’s sick, you stay far, far away.
I stand in Scottie’s doorway for a second. Two.
Then I step inside.
“Scottie?” I call. “It’s me. Lucas.”
The house is dim, curtains drawn. I squint to see better when something slams into my shin.
“Whoa—”
I stumble forward, catching myself on the wall as a blur of fur darts past my legs like a missile.
Pinto.
The cat zips across the hardwood, jumps on top of an armchair, and immediately starts meowing at me like I’mpersonally responsible for whatever neglect he’s suffered in the last twelve hours.
“Yeah, okay,” I mutter, heart still pounding. “I’ll get to you, too.”
He doesn’t stop meowing. Not even a little.
“Scottie?” I call again, louder now, starting to feel real panic that something’s wrong.
“I HAVE A TASER AND I’VE CALLED THE COPS,” she yells from down the hall, her voice hoarse and wavering.
“Don’t tase me!” I blurt, hands going up on instinct. “Scottie—it’s me. Lucas. I used the code. I’m sorry.”
There’s a beat.
Then she appears in the doorway.
She’s swaying, wrapped in a fuzzy robe, her face flushed and her eyes glassy, dark circles carved deep under them.
“Lucas?” she croaks.
She takes one step toward me?—
—and nearly goes down.
I cross the room in two strides and catch her before she hits the floor, her body burning through the layers, trembling with the effort of standing.
“Easy,” I say, guiding her to the couch, my voice deceptively steady. “I’ve got you.”
Pinto jumps up beside us, still yelling.
“Yeah, yeah,” I murmur, already digging through the pharmacy bag. “You’re next.”
But right now, it’s her.
Always her.
She clutches weakly at my sleeve once she’s settled, her hand hot to the touch.
“You’re going to get sick,” she says. Not a warning. An argument she’s too exhausted to win.
“I never get sick,” I say, which is almost true. “And I’ve already taken Airborne.”
“Lucas—”
