14
Annie
Roan let out a groan, and I jerked upright, my blanket falling to my waist.
I’d left the lamp on, and a quick glance showed him shivering, his body twitching with chills.
“Shit.” I hopped off Dad’s chair and quickly smashed more Tylenol and mixed it in some water.
“Ann…” He groaned again.
“Almost ready, Roan. Hang in there,” I murmured, swirling the water with a spoon. Good enough.
I returned to his side to find the blanket pushed low on his hips. Shivers rippled over him, and a deep frown dented his brow.
“Here,” I whispered, sliding my hand beneath his head to lift him a bit. “Drink.”
Roan turned his head toward me, breathing deeply. “Annie.”
“I’m right here. Drink.” I put the rim of the cup to his lips, but he didn’t respond. “Come on, Roan. You need to drink this.”
