Chapter 5 - The Sudden Fever And The Empty Apartment
The stranger in the leather jacket didn't stay long. He lingered near the threshold for a few agonizing seconds, his hand resting casually on the door handle as if debating whether to step further inside, before letting the door swing shut behind him with a dull click. Through the plate glass window, I watched him walk over to a nondescript gray sedan parked by the edge of the asphalt lot, climb into the driver's seat, and sit there with the engine idling. He didn't order coffee. He didn't look at a menu. He just watched the diner through the tinted windshield.
By the time my shift ended at midnight, the sedan was gone, but the knot in my stomach remained. I didn't head straight home to my small apartment on the north side of town. Instead, I drove the three miles down County Road 4, my headlights cutting through the thick pine shadows, until I pulled up outside Cole’s building. The exterior light above his front door was burnt out, casting the concrete stoop in deep shadow.
I didn't knock at first. I sat in my car with the motor running, watching the second-floor window where a faint amber lamp glowed through thin cotton curtains. Everything looked quiet. Yet, as I killed the engine and stepped out into the cool night air, a strange prickle of unease crawled up my neck. I climbed the exterior metal stairs, my boots ringing softly against the grated treads, and pushed open the heavy wooden door that Cole always left unlatched when he was expecting me or running late.
The apartment smelled of damp wool and infant vapor rub.
"Cole?" I called out softly, stepping into the tiny kitchen. The linoleum was cold beneath the soles of my sneakers.
There was no answer from the living room, only a low, rhythmic rasping sound that made my chest tighten. I hurried down the short hallway. Cole was sitting in the worn armchair by the radiator, holding Noah tightly against his chest. The baby’s cheeks were flushed a violent, unhealthy crimson, and his little fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white. He was breathing with a wet, ragged hitch that terrified me.
Cole looked up, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with exhaustion. The dark stubble along his jawline looked heavier than it had a few nights ago, and his shoulders were hunched in defeat. "He woke up burning an hour ago," Cole said, his voice cracked and barely audible above the hum of the radiator. "I tried the cool compresses. I gave him the infant drops, but the fever isn't breaking. He won't stop crying, Cassie. Every time I lay him down, he chokes."
I dropped my purse onto the floor and knelt beside the chair, pressing the back of my hand against Noah’s forehead. It radiated heat like a small stove. The baby let out a pathetic, high-pitched whimper, his small body shuddering against Cole's chest.
"Where are his car keys?" I asked, my voice instantly steady despite the panic fluttering in my throat.
"The ignition lock jammed this evening," Cole said, his jaw tightening as shame flickered briefly in his dark eyes. "I tried to start it to get him to the county hospital, but the battery's dead. I was just trying to figure out how to walk him two miles in this damp air without making his chest worse."
"You aren't walking anywhere," I said, standing up immediately and grabbing my car keys from my pocket. "Get his jacket and the heavy blanket. My car is parked right outside. We're going to the urgent care clinic off Highway 9 right now."
May you like
Cole didn't argue. That alone told me how scared he was. He wrapped Noah securely in the worn gray blanket, pulled his own black jacket over his shoulders, and followed me out the door without another word.
###
Related Stories
