We walked in pairs, my aunt and I in the middle, Hayden and my uncle on either side. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught my aunt sneaking a not-so-subtle look at Hayden, then meeting my gaze with a wink that made my cheeks burn.
I shot her a look of warning, only to be saved by my uncle breaking the silence, asking Hayden where he was from—not the safest topic, I realized too late.
Hayden fielded the questions smoothly enough, keeping his answers clipped and polite. “Grew up at sea, mostly. Ended up here about three months back. Been working around the islands since.”
He didn’t elaborate, and his steady voice didn’t invite more. My aunt asked if he liked it here.
“It’s… different,” Hayden replied to that, with a faded smile. “Still getting used to it.”
That was all he offered. My aunt and uncle seemed to catch the signal and let the subject drop.
Crossing the bridge, we checked through the barrier with our rings and began the long climb up the main island’s slope. The grade quickly left us winded, conversation fading into the rhythm of breathing and trudging feet.
We reached Martha’s gates with ten minutes to spare, but I buzzed the intercom anyway. A moment later, the gates swung open to let us in.
Jack and Bea stood with Martha at the door. They squealed the moment they spotted us. Bea, wearing the same neat braid as last week, and a stylish blue halter neck dress, jumped into my arms, barely even registering the tall stranger standing next to me. I scooped her up, dropping kisses on her face.
Martha welcomed us in and led the way toward thechildren’s room. Inside the sunlit atrium, we all crowded into the glass elevator.
“Tani,” Martha began quietly, pressing the button for the upper floor. “I thought you’d want to know… I tried to take Bea to visit your parents last week. She’s been asking for them.”
I glanced down at Bea, surprised. “Oh? Did you get to see them?”
Martha’s expression shifted, lines of concern deepening. “No. We weren’t allowed in.”
My heart sank. “Why not? What did they say?”
Bea piped up, her little face clouding with frustration. “They said we couldn’t see them!” She hugged her arms around herself, frowning.
“Well, it wasn’t quite that simple, sweetie,” Martha said, brushing a comforting hand over Bea’s head, before returning her focus to me. “We arrived at the hospital and asked to see your parents, but were informed by a nurse that they have been quarantined. They recently contracted a contagious fever.”
I almost choked. “F-Fever? What kind of fever?”
Martha gave a sad sigh. “The nurse didn’t specify. Just said they caught it off another patient. One of the most recent arrivals. Your parents weren’t the only ones in their ward to contract it. There are six currently sectioned off.”
A quiet curse slipped out before I could stop it. My parents had gone into the hospital to heal broken bones. Now there was talk of contagion?
“When did you visit them?” I asked Martha.
“Wednesday,” she replied.
“How can I contact them? Does the hospital have a number? I need to talk to them!” I felt desperate to visit them, but if they were contagious, I couldn’t risk getting ill myself. That could set us all back by who knew how many coins. And it sounded like the nurses wouldn’t even allow me.
“Yes,” Martha replied. “I can help you with that. I don’t have the number to hand, but I’ll make a call and get it for you. In the meantime,”—she swung open the door to Bea and Jack’s room, gesturing for us to enter—“why don’t you make yourselves at home?”
My heart still raced as I sat on Bea’s bed. I exchanged glances with my aunt and uncle, who looked equally concerned as they sat down on Jack’s bed. I just hoped my parents had made some recovery since Martha and Bea visited on Wednesday, because this was the last thing they needed. Staying at that hospital was miserable enough without catching someone else’s illness.
Though, it was hardly a wonder. A constant flux of strangers went through that place, people from all kinds of backgrounds that Fairwell was scooping up. People on the brink of desperation. Of course, some of them would be diseased, and given the lack of space there, it was no wonder that viruses spread.
But I doubted this would have happened if they’d been at Beauchamp Hospital. From what I’d seen of the building, there were no shared wards and every surface was spotless.
I wondered how much it would cost to transfer them both there. If bronze status was the bare minimum just to keep us under one roof, I could only imagine how high the bar was set for a transfer to a fancy hospital.
I rubbed at my temples, a stress headache coming on. “Dammit,” I mumbled.
“Who are you?” Bea demanded suddenly, staring at Hayden with all the gravity a three-year-old could muster.
I glanced up to find her regarding him as if he were a suspicious package. Hayden, who’d quietly taken the spot beside me on the bed, shifted his weight, visibly unsure how to handle a toddler’s scrutiny.
