The morning was quiet. The only sounds were the occasional hum of the refrigerator and the soft rustling of the curtains. I got up quietly so as to not wake Brie up, and made my way to the kitchen, hoping to start the day with some coffee. As I filled the pot with water and scooped in the coffee grounds, the aroma began to fill the kitchen.
Suddenly, I heard a faint noise from the bedroom. It was Brie. I quickly turned off the coffee maker and rushed down the hallway and into the bedroom to her side. She was sitting up in bed, her face pale and her eyes filled with discomfort.
"Daylan," she whispered, her voice weak. "I feel so nauseous."
I sat down beside her, placing a hand on her forehead. She was clammy, but there was no fever. "I'm here. It's okay. Just breathe."
She nodded, but
