Chapter Four: The Nursery

Mrs. Patel unlocked the apartment door with the spare key Harper had given her.

The place was tiny and sparsely furnished.

But clean.

The one standard she refused to compromise on.

No matter how exhausted she was.

Russo set her gently on her feet once they were inside.

She stumbled toward Lily’s cries.

Found her red-faced and frantic in the secondhand crib in the corner of the living room.

Her nursery.

“Mommy’s here, baby. Mommy’s here.”

She murmured, lifting her daughter into her arms.

Lily was burning up.

Her little body radiating heat.

The antibiotics hadn’t worked.

Or perhaps she hadn’t been able to give them properly.

Rushing between jobs as she was.

She was vaguely aware of Russo standing in the doorway.

Watching them with that same unreadable expression.

Mrs. Patel hovered nearby, wringing her hands.

“She’s been feverish all evening.”

She explained apologetically.

“I would have called you, but you said not to unless it was an emergency. And she was doing better earlier, but then—”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Patel. Thank you for watching her.”

Harper swayed gently, trying to soothe Lily.

But her own strength was fading fast.

Black spots danced at the edges of her vision.

“Give her to me.”

Russo’s voice was at her ear.

His hands already reaching for Lily.

Instinctively, she clutched her daughter closer.

“No.”

“You’re about to collapse again. Give her to me, or you’ll drop her.”

The truth of his words penetrated her fog of maternal protectiveness.

Reluctantly, she allowed him to take Lily from her arms.

To her amazement, Lily almost immediately began to quiet.

Perhaps startled by this new person.

Or perhaps sensing, as Harper had, the aura of absolute control that surrounded him.

He held her with surprising competence.

Supporting her head properly.

Her tiny body secure against his broad chest.

The sight of her daughter in the arms of a man who was almost certainly dangerous in ways she couldn’t begin to understand was surreal.

“When was she last given medicine for the fever?”

He asked.

His eyes never leaving Lily’s face.

“Four hours ago.”

Mrs. Patel answered.

“Children’s Tylenol, like Harper told me. But she spit most of it out.”

A sharp knock at the door made them all turn.

Russo nodded at Mrs. Patel, who opened it.

A silver-haired man carrying a medical bag stood in the hallway.

“This is Dr. Reeves.”

Russo said.

“He’ll examine both of you.”

“I can’t afford—”

“I didn’t ask.”

The finality in his tone broke no argument.

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