Chapter 19Elliot was shaking in his boots, and it had nothing to do with the seasonally bitter winds tearing through his coat and everything to do with the door he was standing before. He’d managed to ring the doorbell, but mostly from sheer momentum. Then he fretted that the house was too quiet. Micah could be asleep, and Elliot would be disturbing him. He should leave, except his hands were full and what should he do with all that and—
The door opened.
Elliot’s heart leaped at seeing Micah again, even with the grungy sweats, crusty eyes, and the blanket being worn as a cape over his shoulders.
Micah squinted at him. “Elliot?” he croaked. He sounded awful.
“I…” How did one begin? “I brought soup.” Well, that was a start.
Micah squinted harder. Which, even if he didn’t look like death
