“Lily!”

A small sound came from the hallway. Not a word. A breath.

I found her curled on the floor, halfway between the bathroom and the closet, in pink pajamas with little white stars on them. Her cheek was pressed to the hardwood.

Her hair was stuck damp to her forehead. Her skin was bright with fever, but her lips looked dry and pale.

“Grandpa,” she whispered.

I dropped beside her so hard both knees cracked. When I touched her face, the heat rolled into my palm.