Millie’s voice cracked with a cry, her grip tightening on the pin.

“Don’t take my hairpin,” she muttered.

The intensity of her unconscious hold startled Marcus.

A newfound contentment settled over him, and he ceased his efforts, simply covering her with a quilt, leaving the hairpin in her determined grasp.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw her face.

Millie’s lips had turned a worrying shade of purple from the cold, making her look as if she’d been poisoned.

doorbell ringing was heard

was outside, ringing the doorbell and holding

quickly opened

Mrs.

and a delicious aroma filled the room.

eyes fluttered open, and she sat up, sniffing the

asked, her voice weak but

hand, holding the thermos box, paused when he

it would help her regain strength, he asked, “Would you

bedside and poured her a

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