Franco watched as the color drained from her cheeks, her fever fading and leaving her looking far too pale. Her lashes quivered, stubborn even in her weakness.
“You’re really something,” he said, his tone casual.
Petty’s lashes fluttered. Was that supposed to be a compliment? Did he think she was a child?
The phone on the nightstand kept ringing, loud and insistent. Franco ignored it completely, instead holding out his hand to her, three pills resting in his palm.
“If you’re so capable, go ahead and show me.”
Petty’s head was heavy and foggy with the flu, and Franco’s casual tone nearly made her head pop. She dragged her hand over to grab the pills. “I just mean, you don’t have to miss your—” she started, trying to protest.
But before she could finish, Franco’s other hand slipped behind her neck, guiding her forward as he pressed the pills into her mouth, effectively cutting her off.
The bitterness hit her instantly, spreading across her tongue. Her face twisted, wondering if he was doing this on purpose.
Downstairs, Jay’s phone rang. Glancing at the screen with his usual detached look, he answered anyway.
“Where’s Franco?” Laura’s voice was tight, her emotions hanging by a thread.
Leaning against the window, Jay gazed out at the endless snow. “Laura, Franco can’t stand being followed. Call off those people you’ve got trailing him. Next time, if I have to deal with them myself, I can’t promise they’ll walk away unscathed.”
“I just want to know what he’s doing. Is Petty at Misty Vale?” Laura’s voice was brittle and shaky.
“Petty is the lady here. Isn’t it normal for her to be at Misty Vale?”
Jay turned away from the window. “Focus on getting better at the hospital. Franco can’t stand people who act on their own or don’t listen.”

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