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“Basic medications. Is the first aid kit stocked?”

He nods. “We keep a lot here, just in case. We’re a long way from the nearest hospital.”

“How long?” I ask, and his mouth tightens. “Two hours.”

“Okay. Get everything together and put it on the table in the sitting room, so it’s easily accessible. If someone can get the bottled water up from the cellar, that would be helpful too, so wedon’t have to go up and down. I’ll check on Ellen, and then we’ll get some simple meals on the go. Stock up, so we don’t have to worry for the next few days at least. Towels, spare bedding, all of that can be put against the far wall in the sitting room so it’s close by.”

And then, we wait to see who else might fall ill.

Silas watches me, his eyes considering. “You’re good at this.”

I had to be, once. But there’s no time for that discussion now. So I duck into Ellen’s room. She’s laying back against the covers, her forehead damp. When I say her name, she doesn’t answer.

“Ellen?” My voice rises. “Silas!”

He appears in a moment. “She wasn’t like this a minute ago.”

Concern tightens my throat, threatens to paralyze me. Forcing it down, I try to think. “You called the hospital?”

He nods. “They can take emergency cases, but anything else is being turned away.”

“Okay,” I whisper. I kneel next to Ellen, pushing back her hair. Even her breathing sounds harsh, loud and crackling. “Ellen. We’re going to move you into the main room, okay? So we can keep an eye on you.”

She doesn’t respond, and I swallow as Silas carefully gathers her up, following behind them as he walks quickly to the sitting room.

Kit is there, and I grab his arm, trying to pull him out. “You need to leave. Silas and I have both been around Ellen, but you haven’t.”

His brows drop down. “You must be joking. I’m not leaving you.”

“Please.” I’m trying not to panic. Ellen looks so weak as Silas lays her carefully on one of the mattresses. “Someone needs to stay away, Kit. Just in case.”

“Stasi’s right.” Silas sounds steady, but I can hear the worry. “Out, Kit.”

He purses his lips. “I’ll stay out of the room, for now. I’ll go and find Rafe. We’ll sort out some food.”

Relief squeezes my chest. “Good. Okay.”

I drop down next to Ellen as he leaves. Silas hovers as I dampen a small towel, dabbing at her forehead. “What about paracetamol?”

I shake my head. “It won’t work. I’ve given her some ibuprofen. The temperature… it can be a healthy response to fight off the infection. We just need to wait.”

But as the day passes into evening, Ellen doesn’t get any better.

I choke down the sandwiches delivered to the door by Kit. Shoo him out of the kitchen long enough to pull together a big tureen of soup.

Ellen rouses enough to take a few sips. “Not as good as yours,” I say softly. Her eyes crack open.

“Not so bad,” she whispers. “Good job.”

“Thanks.” I want to cry, but I push it back. Silas makes calls, trying to get someone, anyone with actual medical experience out here to help. But everyone is either sick themselves or busy elsewhere.

He swears, and I move over to him. “We’ll be okay.”

“Ellen is bad enough.” His voice sounds hoarse. “But if the twins go down – if you go down. I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey.” I feel his forehead. He feels warm, but I don’t know if it’s just the stress. “Sit down for a minute. I’ll get you some water.”

He drinks a full glass. “This was not what I expected when I said I’d spend every day making things up to you.”