Chapter 9 - The Fever in the Night and the First Time She Whispered "Daddy"
Winter arrived in western Pennsylvania with an unforgiving blizzard that blanketed the Fox Chapel hills in eighteen inches of snow.
Inside the manor, the massive stone fireplaces roared with cedar and birch wood, casting a warm, golden glow across the living room. For June, who had spent previous winters shivering under thin acrylic blankets in unheated foster bedrooms, the warmth of the manor was a miracle that never grew old.
However, two days before Christmas, a severe viral flu swept through St. Jude’s Academy.
At midnight, Nathan was awakened by a faint, pitiful whimper coming through the baby monitor he kept on his nightstand.
He was out of bed in an instant, crossing the hallway into June’s room.
June was tangled in her lavender sheets, tossing and turning restlessly. Her cheeks were flushed a dangerous, burning crimson, and her forehead was drenched in cold sweat.
Nathan sat on the edge of the bed and pressed his palm to her forehead. Her skin was scalding hot.
"June? Sweetheart, can you hear me?" Nathan asked, his voice laced with immediate worry.
June’s gray eyes opened halfway, glassy and unfocused. She began to tremble violently with chills. "I'm sorry... I didn't break the glass... please don't leave me in the dark..."
She was delirious, trapped in a flashback of her former foster homes.
Nathan’s heart felt as though it were being ripped apart. He leaned over, pulling her up into his arms, wrapping her in a dry, warm blanket.
"You're not in the dark, June. You're in your room. I'm right here. Nathan is right here."
He immediately dialed Dr. Bennett, his private family physician, who lived only two miles away. "Bennett. June has a fever of 103.8. She’s delirious. Get to the house now."
While waiting for the doctor, Nathan carried June downstairs to the bathroom. He filled a basin with cool water, brought clean washcloths, and sat on the floor with June cradled in his lap. He gently bathed her burning forehead, her neck, and her trembling wrists.
"It burns," June whimpered, tears leaking from her closed eyes. "Mommy... where are you?"
Nathan felt a lump the size of a fist in his throat. He held her tighter against his chest, rocking her gently back and forth while the blizzard howled against the windowpanes.
"Mommy is watching over you, June," Nathan whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "And I'm here. I’m never leaving you. I will sit right here until the fever is gone. I promise you."
Dr. Bennett arrived twenty minutes later, battling through the snowdrifts. For the next two hours, the doctor administered fever-reducing medication, checked her lungs, and set up a cool-mist humidifier beside her bed.
"It’s a severe viral strain, Nathan," Dr. Bennett explained softly as they stood in the doorway. "Her lungs are clear, thank God, but the fever will peak over the next six hours. The best medicine right now is hydration, rest, and knowing she’s safe."
"I won't leave her," Nathan said.
And he didn't.
For forty-eight straight hours, Nathan Cole did not sleep. He did not check his emails. He did not answer corporate calls. He sat in the armchair right beside June’s bed, holding her small, hot hand in his own. Whenever she stirred, he was there with a glass of ice water, a cool washcloth for her forehead, or a soft story read from her favorite book.
On Christmas Eve morning, as the first rays of winter sunlight broke through the frost-patterned windows, the fever finally broke.
June’s skin cooled to a healthy warmth. Her breathing turned slow, deep, and peaceful.
She blinked her eyes open, the feverish haze completely gone.
She looked to her side. Nathan was still sitting there, his eyes bloodshot, dark shadows under his cheekbones, his hair uncombed, holding her small hand firmly between his two large palms.
June looked at him for a long, quiet moment. She felt the heavy warmth of his hand, saw the absolute devotion etched into his exhausted face, and realized that he had spent two days guarding her like a sentinel.
She squeezed his fingers.
Nathan stirred immediately, his eyes snapping open. "June? How do you feel? Is your throat hurting? Are you thirsty?"
June smiled—the softest, sweetest, most radiant smile Nathan had ever seen.
She reached out her other hand, touching his stubbled cheek with her tiny fingers.
"I love you, Daddy," she whispered softly.
Nathan froze.
The word washed over his soul like a healing wave, washing away ten years of bitterness, loneliness, and corporate isolation. Tears welled in the billionaire’s eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
May you like
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, his voice trembling with pure, unadulterated joy.
"I love you too, June. More than life itself."
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