Her skin was smooth, warm, and dry, free of the burning heat that had terrified me eight hours ago.

“You managed four hours completely on your own,” I said.

“I managed because I had to,” Ethan replied.

“Come into the kitchen.

There is something else you need to look at.”

I followed him to the table.

Lying on the wood surface was a piece of white paper printed from his computer, divided into seven clean columns.

“I spent the last hour working on this while June was sleeping,” Ethan said, standing beside my chair.