Later, when Emma slept and the lamp burned low, Cara excused herself earlier than necessary. The intimacy of confession had left her raw, exposed. She needed walls between them, even thin ones. "Thank you," Jonathan said as she moved toward the sitting room. "For the meal, for everything.
Thank you for the shelter. " "That's not. " He shook his head. You've given more than shelter back. Cara paused in the doorway. For a moment, she almost said something. Almost crossed the room, almost let herself feel something beyond grief.
Instead, she nodded once and disappeared into the shadows. Jonathan sat alone with his daughter, lamp burning low, and realized the house didn't feel empty anymore. The realization terrified him. Feverd dreams morning came with crisis. Cara heard Jonathan's sharp intake of breath from the bedroom and was moving before she fully woke.
She found him bent over Emma's cradle, hand pressed to the baby's forehead, face white with panic. She's burning up. Feel her. She's burning. Cara touched Emma's cheek.
Warm. Yes. Flushed, but not the raging heat that signaled true danger. She'd seen true danger. This wasn't it.
She has a fever, Cara said calmly. Babies get fevers. It doesn't mean Don't tell me what it doesn't mean. Jonathan's voice cracked. Don't tell me she's fine.
Everyone told me Mary would be fine. Everyone told me the bleeding would stop. Everyone said he broke off. His hands were shaking. Six months of suppressed terror had found a crack and was pouring through.
Jonathan. Cara kept her voice low and steady. Look at me. He couldn't. His eyes were fixed on Emma on the slight flush across her cheeks on every breath as if counting them would keep them coming.
Cara gently moved him aside. Picked up Emma, who whimpered but didn't scream. Pressed her lips to the small forehead the oldest thermometer. "It's lowrade," she said. "Probably just working on a tooth.
We'll cool her down. Keep her comfortable. Watch her close. But she's strong. " "Jonathan, look at her. She's fighting.
I can't lose her, too. " The words escaped him like a confession. Like something shameful. He stood in the middle of the room. This man who had been holding his household together through sheer will and crumbled. I can't I'm not strong enough.
If she if something sit down. Cara shifted Emma to one arm and guided him to the rocking chair with the other. Sit. Breathe. Watch.