Clyde stood nearby and checked the thermometer again, his brows furrowing. "40 degrees," he said grimly. "That's too high."
Micah's stomach dropped. He glanced anxiously at Clyde, hoping for some kind of reassurance, but Clyde's face remained serious as he moved to the bedside table. He took a pill from the small medicine kit he had brought earlier.
"Try to wake him," Clyde said, holding out the glass. "See if you can get him to take this."
Micah nodded quickly, his pulse racing. He leaned close to Darcy and gave his shoulder a gentle shake. "Darcy…Hey, wake up," he whispered. His voice quivered, his words nearly lost in the sound of the rain tapping faintly outside. "You need to wake up, okay?"
Darcy stirred faintly, his eyelids fluttering open for a moment before sliding shut again. Micah shook him again, more desperately this time. "Come on, open your eyes," he pleaded, trying to sound calm but failing miserably. "Just for a bit. You need to take the medicine."
