Chapter 20. The Cost of Shelter

Joanne knelt at the side of the bed, holding out the mug. “Drink this, dear. Slowly. It will cool the fire.”

Mira’s hands trembled as she took the cup. Kaelen steadied it, helping guide it to her lips.

She sipped. Coughed. Grimaced.

“Bitter,” she rasped.

Joanne offered a faint smile and dabbed her mouth with a cloth. “All good medicine is. Keep going.”

Mira drank again—slowly. The color began to creep back into her cheeks.

When the mug was empty, Kaelen eased her back onto the pillows, brushing damp strands of hair from her face.

Joanne rose, gathering the cup. “The fever should break within the hour. Let her sleep. That’s what she needs most.”

Kaelen’s hand remained on Mira’s cheek, his thumb stroking softly. Her eyes had already drifted closed again.

Joanne lingered in the doorway, watching.

Then, wordless, she sent her thought across the link:

‘Once she’s asleep, meet me. You, me, and Martha—we need to speak.’<