He soaked a cloth and pressed it to her forehead again. Her skin still burned. The heat was the kind that made you feel helpless, like you were trying to put out a fire with a teaspoon.
Her eyes fluttered open just enough for her to take in the room.
Then her face softened.
Relief.
Not sudden, not dramatic—slow relief, like a door finally closing after years of being left open.
Jake offered her water. He held the cup steady, not forcing it.
She took a small sip.
Then another.
Her throat moved like swallowing hurt.
After a long moment, her voice came out soft and scratchy.
