Lynn's POV

Lira was building a tower out of wooden blocks when she just stopped.

She didn't cry. She didn't say anything. She sat there in the middle of the children's room floor, blinked at me, and then her face went slack with something that wasn't quite pain. Something deeper.

I was across the room in two steps.

The heat hit me before I touched her — a fever so fierce I yanked my hand back on instinct, then pressed it harder against her forehead. Her skin was ...