Chapter 5 - THE FEVER
It happened on a Tuesday night.
Thomas was trapped in a grueling, emergency conference call with the mayor and his legal team, a manufactured crisis heavily orchestrated by Arthur Sterling to keep Thomas occupied.
Clare was alone in the main house with Elise.
At 9:00 PM, the intercom in the kitchen buzzed. It was Maria, the housekeeper. "Mrs. Lawson? I am so sorry to disturb you, but Elise is very warm. She's shivering, and she won't drink her water."
Clare's heart skipped a beat. No. Please, God, no. The trauma of Emma's final hours in the hospital rushed back with suffocating force. Clare gripped the marble counter, fighting the urge to run out the front door and never look back.
But a small, ragged cough echoed through the intercom.
Clare forced her legs to move. She climbed the stairs and entered Elise's room. The child was curled into a tight ball, her skin flushed an angry, burning red. Her breathing was shallow and rapid.
Clare placed a trembling hand on Elise's forehead. She was burning up.
"Elise? Baby, look at me," Clare said, her voice shaking.
Elise opened her glassy eyes. "It hurts," she whimpered, her tiny hands clutching her chest. "My back hurts. I can't breathe right."
Because of Elise's muscular atrophy, a simple respiratory infection could turn into lethal pneumonia within hours. Her weakened chest muscles couldn't clear the fluid.
"Maria! Call an ambulance!" Clare screamed, the heavy, suffocating fog of her grief instantly vaporized by raw adrenaline.
By the time Thomas arrived at Boston General Hospital, sprinting through the double doors with his tie undone and panic in his eyes, he found Clare sitting by a hospital bed in the pediatric ICU.
Elise was hooked up to an oxygen mask and an IV line, but she was sleeping peacefully, her fever broken.
Clare was sitting in the chair, holding Elise's small, fragile hand in both of hers. Her face was streaked with tears, but her eyes were clear. Clearer than they had been in a year.
Thomas stopped in the doorway, breathless.
Clare looked up at him. "The doctors said her chest wall was too weak to fight the infection. She stopped breathing in the ambulance, Thomas." Clare's voice broke into a heavy sob, but she didn't let go of Elise's hand. "They had to bag her. But she fought. She fought so hard to stay here."
Thomas walked over, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder.
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Clare looked down at the sleeping child. "I almost lost her today. And the only thing that terrified me more than losing her... was the realization that I actually love her. I love her, Thomas."
The ghost of Emma did not leave the room, but it stepped back, making space. Clare leaned over and kissed Elise's sweaty forehead. "You're not going back," Clare whispered fiercely to the sleeping child. "You are never going back."
