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“No, you’re having crackers with a little bit of soup.”

“I like it this way,” she said and took a bite. “I don’t tell you how to eat your soup.”

I laughed. “You mean you don’t tell me how to eat my crackers.”

“If I felt better, I’d throw something at you.”

“I thought you said you were feeling better.”

“I am, and I’m not. I think my fever finally broke, because I woke up covered in sweat. But I still feel like crap.”

“Have you talked to your instructor?”

“Not yet. I’ll see how I feel Monday.”

“Gabby,” I said slowly. “It is Monday.”

“What?” she gasped and reached for her phone on the nightstand. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been asleep for three days?”

“Yes, and no. You woke up long enough to take your medicine or make a trip to the bathroom,” I explained.

“I don’t remember any of that.”

“Well, you were pretty out of it. Patch said that was because of the fever.”

“How high was it?”

“Anywhere between one hundred and three and one hundred and five.”

“That explains all the sweat,” she grumbled. “I really need to take a shower.”

“Why don’t you finish eating first?” I suggested.

She looked down at the half-eaten bowl of soup and frowned. “I don’t think I can eat any more.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, hoping she’d reconsider.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she said and picked up her phone. “I need to let my instructor know what’s going on.” Her eyes widened as she read something on the screen.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lauren has been blowing up my phone. I have twelve missed calls and seventeen text messages from her.”

“Is that unusual for her?” I asked.

“Hold on, let me send this to my instructor before I forget,” she said and quickly typed out a message. “I don’t know Lauren that well, but I’m going to say this isn’t normal behavior for anyone. What do you think?” she asked and handed me her phone.

I read over the text messages and had to agree with Gabby. The first couple of messages were fine, but they became increasingly insistent and demanding.

“Yeah, these messages sound like they’re from a controlling parent or a jealous girlfriend, not from a concerned friend.”

“I guess I should text her back and tell her I’m sick.”

“Before you do, there’s something you should know. I asked Flint to go to your house and pick up a few things for you on Friday. She showed up at your place when he was headed back out to his truck and grilled him about where you were.”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah,” I said. “He told her you were in Croftridge for the weekend. Then she asked him if he was single and gave him her phone number.”

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