Chapter 4

Sarah Quinn carried a bucket of hot water into her room, scrubbing herself clean from head to toe. When she stepped back out, she ran right into Jack Cheney, who was holding a steaming cup of ginger tea. He paused, startled to see her, and then awkwardly pointed toward the kitchen. "There’s still some left in the pot. You should have some to warm up. This... I’m taking to Lily first," he explained hesitantly. Sarah nodded woodenly, watching as he hurried off. She went to empty the bathwater and, on a whim, peeked into the kitchen as she passed by. A small porcelain jar sat on the counter, its contents nearly gone. Only a sticky layer of burnt caramel residue remained at the bottom. She let out a short, bitter laugh. If he never intended to save any for her, why bother pretending? Why offer hollow words that only made the situation worse? That night, perhaps because of the earlier chill from the snow, Sarah slept deeply and dreamlessly. The next morning, she dragged herself to work at the citrus plant, her head foggy and her steps unsteady. Laura Jenkins, one of her colleagues, noticed her pale face and slipped her a piece of hard candy. "You look terrible, Sarah. Are you feeling sick? Don’t push yourself too hard. There’s not much going on at the plant this afternoon. Why don’t you ask Captain Cheney to take you to the clinic?" "This year’s flu has been nasty," Laura added, urging her on. "Don’t let it get worse!" But before Sarah could respond, one of the other workers chimed in from nearby, clearly relishing the drama. "Captain Cheney? I just saw him driving off with some girl. Probably won’t be back for a while," the woman said with a smirk. "Hey, wasn’t that girl a relative of yours?" another added, nudging Sarah with a knowing look. "She kind of looks like you." "Captain Cheney’s really something, huh? Not only does he treat his wife so well, but he even takes care of her family like they’re his own. You’re lucky, Sarah—marrying him must feel like hitting the jackpot!" Their laughter echoed around her, but Sarah barely registered it. Her head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, and her body seemed to sink further with every step. Finally, the world around her blurred, and she collapsed amid a flurry of startled cries. --- Sarah floated in a haze, her consciousness drifting in and out. Somewhere nearby, she heard a voice scolding softly. A young nurse, unaware of Jack Cheney’s identity, muttered under her breath, chastising him for bringing a patient in so late. "How could you let her burn up with a fever like this before getting help?" Jack didn’t respond. His cold hands pressed against Sarah’s flushed cheeks, trying to cool her down. The sensation stirred something deep in her memory. There was a time when Jack had truly been good to her. But now, she realized, it only happened when Lily wasn’t around. It was almost as if, through her, he was caring for someone else. As long as Lily was in the picture, Sarah would always be the one left behind. That thought lingered as her mind sank back into unconsciousness. --- When Sarah woke again, the hospital room was empty. A thermos sat on the bedside table, filled with steaming chicken soup. It had clearly been left there not long ago. She got up unsteadily, deciding to head to the restroom. On her way back, she passed by another room and froze in her tracks. Through the slightly ajar door, she caught sight of Jack sitting at Lily’s bedside. He was holding a spoon, carefully feeding her soup. "Drink more," he said gently. "You’re too frail—that’s why your blood sugar keeps dropping. I don’t have much going on at work right now, so I’ve applied to work from home. That way, I can focus on taking care of you." Steam rose from the soup, casting a soft glow over Lily’s face. She smiled shyly, her head dipping slightly as she leaned closer to Jack. "Thank you, Jack," she murmured. "But... what about my sister? I heard she’s sick too. Maybe you should go check on her. I’ll be fine." Her tone was sweet, almost self-effacing, but before she could finish, she began coughing violently, clutching Jack’s arm for support. He immediately leaned in, patting her back with concern. "How can I leave you like this?" he said firmly. "Sarah’s always been strong—she’ll bounce back in no time. She doesn’t need me worrying over her." "Right now, nothing is more important than you."