Kathryn
21
Kathryn sat on her bed. Janet nosed open the door and hopped up next to her. She petted the dog absentmindedly.
She was tired but strangely awake. Heather’s fever was too high this time. She’d have to wait at least twenty minutes, though thirty would be better, before checking her temperature again.
Oh the tea!
She kissed the top of Janet’s head. They went to the kitchen together and Kathryn lit a comforting oil lamp. When the tea was made, Kathryn tiptoed to Heather’s room and set the mug on the bedside table.
She kneeled beside Heather’s bed, her knees uncomfortable on the wood floor, and looked at the clock again. Only thirteen minutes had passed. If the fever had gone down even a little bit—even just two-tenths of a degree—she’d know the medication was doing its trick.
