The Day Ethan Cole Got Sick — And Greyhaven Refused to Let Him Be Alone
Chapter 2
The clinic confirmed what Ethan had been trying not to admit.
He was sick.
A bad viral infection.
High fever.
Dehydration.
Rest required.
No work.
The doctor said it twice.
Walter heard it the first time.
Ethan pretended he hadn’t.
When they stepped outside, the rain had become heavier.
Walter unlocked the truck.
Ethan stopped beside the passenger door.
“I can drive.”
“No.”
“I can.”
“No.”
Ethan looked at him.
Walter pointed toward the seat.
“Get in.”
Ethan sighed and climbed inside.
They drove toward the pharmacy.
Ethan stared through the window.
Greyhaven moved past in gray streaks.
People walked beneath umbrellas.
The harbor cranes disappeared into fog.
The town looked ordinary.
That was the strange thing.
Ethan felt like his body had stopped working properly, yet the world continued exactly as before.
At the pharmacy, Walter bought medicine.
Then water.
Then electrolyte drinks.
Then fever reducers.
Then a thermometer.
Ethan watched him add things to the basket.
“You don’t need half of that.”
Walter didn’t look at him.
“You’re not a doctor.”
“Neither are you.”
“Exactly.”
At the diner, June was waiting.
She looked at Ethan through the window.
Her expression changed before he even entered.
“How bad?”
Walter answered.
“High fever.”
June looked at Ethan.
“Have you eaten?”
Ethan sighed.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Because you haven’t.”
“I had toast.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
June closed her eyes briefly.
Then disappeared into the kitchen.
Ethan sat at the counter.
A few minutes later, she returned with soup.
Steam rose from the bowl.
Ethan looked at it.
“I don’t want soup.”
“You don’t have to want it.”
She pushed it toward him.
“Eat what you can.”
Ethan took the spoon.
The first bite tasted better than he expected.
The warmth spread slowly through his chest.
June leaned against the counter.
Walter stood nearby.
Neither spoke.
Ethan ate another spoonful.
Then another.
“You see?” June said.
Ethan looked at her.
“What?”
“You didn’t die.”
Walter laughed.
Ethan shook his head.
“You two are impossible.”
June smiled.
“Maybe.”
Ethan looked around the diner.
The tables were mostly empty because of the rain.
A couple sat near the window.
Someone read the newspaper.
The coffee machine hissed.
It was ordinary.
Comfortably ordinary.
Ethan suddenly felt very tired.
June noticed.
“Go home.”
“I have to—”
“No.”
She looked at Walter.
“Take him home.”
Walter nodded.
Ethan sighed.
“Fine.”
Neither of them celebrated the victory.
They simply helped him stand.
Outside, the rain smelled like salt.
Walter opened the truck.
June handed him the bag of medicine.
“Call me if he gets worse.”
Ethan looked at her.
“I’m standing right here.”
“I know.”
She smiled.
“That’s why I’m telling him.”
Walter laughed.
Ethan climbed into the truck.
As they drove away, he looked back through the window.
June stood beneath the diner awning.
She watched until the truck disappeared.
Ethan turned forward.
Something uncomfortable moved inside his chest.
Not pain.
Something else.
He didn’t have a name for it.
