Panting, Dorothy retraced her steps to the hospital room door, timing herself perfectly to arrive at the ten-minute mark. She pushed the door open.

True to his word, Everett hadn't locked it from the inside.

He emerged from the bathroom, drenched from head to toe, leaving puddles in his wake.

Dorothy knew he wasn't in the mood to talk, so she briskly went to the wardrobe, grabbed a change of clothes, and without waiting for his consent, began peeling off his soaked garments.

Everett didn't say a word, passively letting her strip away his wet clothes and dress him in fresh ones.

Once she was done, Dorothy felt nearly spent.

She wrapped her arms around Everett's waist and whispered, "How about you lie down for a bit, huh?" "You're not gonna ask?" "I'm not asking." She rested her cheek against his chest. "Whatever you found out there, I won't pry. Just tell me if you're hurt, let me put some ointment on, okay?" He shook his head, his large hand pressing hers firmly against his heart.

"Only you can fix me." Dorothy had a sinking feeling that his troubles had

days left in her one-month agreement with Jonathan, she didn't want

these last days with

then clung to him tightly, sharing her

some sleep, okay?" She didn't insist on applying

but one thing was sure:

laid on her waist

Her lips quivered, eyes cast downward, "Everett, stop hurting yourself. Abigail and Langston are still waiting in Swevia Country. If you wear yourself out,

they had two

in countless ways;

to stroke his hair. "Sleep, and I promise when you wake up, I'l still be here." Despair clouded Everett's eyes, void of their

Dorothy, then

didn't dodge, tilting her head to

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