Morning came quickly and Betty’s breathing wasn’t a ragged struggle. When Grayson leaned over her, he didn’t see the grayish pallor that had haunted her skin. Instead, there was a faint flush of returning life.
She blinked her eyes open, squinting against the brightness. "You’re still here," she rasped. Her voice was thin, but the strength in her grip when she reached for the edge of the blanket was real.
Grayson caught her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a gesture that felt dangerously close to tender. "I'm leaving. You look like you might actually survive the day, and I have a mountain of work waiting for me that doesn't involve playing nursemaid."
Betty offered a small, tired smirk. "Don't let me keep you from your paperwork. I’d hate to be the reason the pack's filing
