Page 52 of Stay Wild Darlin’

Before either of us could say more, a sudden cry broke through the otherwise quiet house.

Cora.

Fable and I turned toward the sound, and my smile faded.

“That’s odd. I’ve never seen her wake once she’s down.”

She was off all day, not herself, which had me worrying.

“Fable, can you make a bottle?”

She nodded without question, disappearing into the kitchen while I pushed open the bedroom door.

Cora was lying in the portable playpen, little fists gripping the mesh sides, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her cries were panicked.

“Oh no, what’s wrong, sweet girl?” I whispered, rushing over. “You’re not yourself.”

I scooped her into my arms, rocking her gently. She didn’t feel warm, wasn’t coughing, no congestion, but something was off.

“Are you gunky, huh?” I asked softly, trying to soothe her, pressing kisses to her temple.

She whimpered and pressed her face into my neck.

Fable came in with the bottle, her expression tense. I shifted Cora to try to feed her, but the second the nipple touched her lips, she shoved it away with both hands and gagged.

My stomach dropped.

“I think we should take her in,” I said quickly, heart already racing.

“Are you sure? She might⁠—”

“No.” I shook my head hard. “We have to take her in. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

“Okay. I’ll grab her bag and my keys.”

I clutched Cora tighter and grabbed my phone, holding her against my chest as she whimpered.

I didn’t want to scare Dalton, but he needed to know.

We’re taking Cora to the ER. Something’s wrong . . . but nothing obvious at the same time. She won’t take a bottle, gagged, just not herself. I don’t want to wait.

My thumb hovered for a half second before I hit Send.

The second the message was delivered, my screen lit up.

Dalton.

I answered immediately, my voice breathless. “Hey⁠—”

“What happened?” I could hear the echo of a stadium in the background, people yelling, boots on gravel. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly, moving quickly behind Fable as she clicked the car seat into place. “She’s not warm, no fever, nothing obvious. She gagged when I tried to feed her. She’s crying like she’s in pain, and— Dalton, she’s not right. I don’t want to risk waiting it out.”

“I’m coming home,” he said instantly, no hesitation.

“Dalton—”

“I mean it, Poppy. I’ll fly back. Text me what hospital.”