FAYE
As my palm rested against his chest, the heat startled me.
Even through the thin fabric of his shirt, I could feel it—steady, relentless warmth pressing into my skin. His heartbeat thudded beneath my hand.
He didn’t stir.
The sedative held him under completely. His breathing was deep and heavy, the kind that comes from forced rest rather than natural sleep.
For a second, I let myself focus only on that rhythm.
This should be easy. I just wanted to give him some relief.
A small shift, a cooling of the fever, a steadier pulse.
He would rest more comfortably.
My fingers pressed slightly more firmly against him without meaning to.
The heat didn’t lessen. His heartbeat didn’t slow.
All I needed to do was focus enough to activate the healing.
The image of him convulsing on the f
