Damian's POV

Three days.

That's how long I'd been locked up in my apartment, half-dead from a fever I couldn't shake. The kind that made your head feel too heavy for your body.

I'd ignored Rachael's calls at first - I wasn't in the mood for pity or fussing. But she was persistent. Sweetly, annoyingly persistent.

I should've known she wouldn't listen.

Rachael Meyer never did.

When she set her mind on something - a project, a deadline, me - she followed through. That's how I found myself ...