Page 123 of His Surrender

I check the navigation three times even though I know the route by heart.

Traffic crawls.

Louis glances at me in the rearview mirror. “You okay, Mr. Ledger?”

“My daughter’s sick.”

His expression immediately softens. “I’m sorry.”

I nod. It’s all I can manage.

I spend the rest of the drive staring out the window, my knee bouncing so hard that it rattles against the leather seat.

Rationally, I know babies get sick. I’ve read enough parenting books over the past three months to know fevers happen.

Knowing that doesn’t stop every possible worst-case scenario from marching through my head.

By the time the elevator reaches the penthouse, my pulse is hammering.

The doors slide open.

“Aubrey?”

“We’re in here.” Her voice floats from the living room.

I find her sitting on the couch with Liana tucked against her chest.

My daughter barely lifts her head when I walk in. That alone steals the breath from my lungs.

Normally, she kicks the second she hears my voice and reaches for my tie before I’ve even crossed the room.

Now she simply blinks up at me with tired eyes.

“Hey there, Peanut.”

I kneel beside the couch, brushing the back of my fingers against her forehead.

“She’s warm,” I say. “Not burning, just … feels warmer than she should be.”

“I know,” Aubrey says quietly. “I thought the same thing.”

“When did she stop smiling?”

“This afternoon.”

I look at her red little cheeks, and it feels like a dagger to my chest. “Has she eaten?”

“She finished most of her bottle.”

“Most?”

“A little less than normal.”

I nod, filing away every detail even though I have absolutely no idea what any of it means.

The buzzer sounds, letting us know there is a delivery waiting downstairs.

“The thermometer and medicine,” Aubrey says.