The fever came a few days later. It started at work, nothing but a numb sort of tiredness first, building throughout the day, until Hannah found herself shaking with an unseen cold, struggling to keep herself up. She went to Jono, pleading sickness.

He rubbed his eyes, annoyed. "You just love pulling things like this, don't you?"

"I'm sorry," she answered. "It's not as if I fell ill on purpose."

"Don't get snarky. Just how sick are you?"

"What?"

"Why don't you take a break? Sit down for awhile, have some tea. I'm sure that'd help."

"No, I need to go home," she insisted. "I'm getting worse, I can feel it."

"But we're short tonight," he said, dismayed.

"Jono," someone interrupted, and Hannah was surprised to see it was Sora. "I don't think she's going to be of much help if she's sick."

"Sora, get back to work. It doesn't concern you."

"We can manage. Just let her go," she said, walking off.

Jono folded his arms, staring Hannah down. "Alright. How long do you think you'll need?"

"I don't know. I haven't been sick in years."

"You won't die on me, will you?"

She gave him a black look.

"Alright, alright. Go on then. For goodness sake, come back as soon as you're better."

Hannah drummed off, keeping her words to herself. She got her shawl, nodding to the other girls as she left. What a chance this was, to be free of work in the middle of the day. It would've been the perfect chance to go to Magda's, or Alyssa's, but she knew she wouldn't be able to make it. She plodded home, but in her state, it took twice as long as usual. She found herself having to stop and sit on the curb a few times, resting her head in her hands.

As she got into Mrs. Baines' block, the old woman heard her and came trotting out curiously. "Why, Miss Iver, I don't normally see you at this time. Oh ... are you alright? You're looking pale."

"No, I don't feel well at all."

"Then you'd better go up and rest."

"Believe me, I want nothing more."

"But just a minute," she said, going over to a counter messy with envelopes. "Here, this arrived for you last night."

Hannah took the letter, looking for a sender's name. None, but she knew that messy handwriting. It was from Macks.

"A handsome man," Mrs. Baines said, cocking a brow. "Friend of yours?"

"Thank you," Hannah said, without answering. "Have a good day, Mrs. Baines." She trudged upstairs, cursing the four floors she had to climb. Why had she and Rio taken this house again?

Finally, she reached her door, staggering inside. She crossed the hall into her room, tossing Macks' letter somewhere. "Ahh," she sighed as soon as she was in bed, coiling herself in blankets. This was exactly where she needed to be. A few days' rest, and she should be right and well again.

She lay still for a minute, thinking of her brother. It would feel better to have him here. She could try sending a message to him, but didn't want to disturb him. She shut her eyes, the picture of Rio in her head shifting, changing, taking the shape of her mother. She stayed in Hannah's mind even as she drifted – her face, her voice, her all-knowing smile. Hannah slipped in and out of unconsciousness the entire night, finally forced awake by terrible thirst. Staring out the door, she felt the familiar grip of fear as the dark stared her down. She reached for her candles, struggling to start a flame. She was so cold – this night air was bad for her.

She lit up as many candles as she had, then put her feet on the floor, looking towards the kitchen. It might as well have been across Dalen, she thought wearily. She pushed herself up, dragging her feet across the floorboards. Somewhere across the hall, a child shrieked, and she heard men's voices upstairs, deep and murmuring. She sniffed, fetching herself a jug of water to keep by her bed. Not much left, she realized. She was going to have to visit the well soon. Where was Rio when she needed him?

She tottered back to bed, drinking clumsily from the jug. There was nothing to eat, but it was just as well. The sickness had taken away her appetite.

She fell asleep again, and this time, her dreams went to other things – Chell, her home and her land, Kurt with a new family of children.

She didn't properly come to until late the following morning – to the noise of a hand at the door. "Hannah?" it was the voice of the Captain. "Are you awake?"

She groaned, rolling in bed. "Go away," she murmured grumpily, as if he could hear. Perhaps if she waited long enough, he would leave. She put the pillow over her head, but he continued to knock, determined as ever.

"Come on, Hannah," he called. "I know you're in there."

She sat up, her head throbbing now. How was a sick person supposed to get any rest like this? She threw off her blankets, swaying as she headed outside. When she opened the door, Macks got a shock.

"Good God," he said, blinking over her. "You look terrible."

"Thank you, Captain. I always could count on your flattery."

"I went to Jono's a while ago, looking for you," he explained, coming inside. "He told me you were sick."

"Yes, very sick."

"Do you need anything?"

"Peace and quiet."

He paused, doing a shrug. "Anything else?"

"I wouldn't mind seeing my brother."

"He's in training with Stefan."

"Can you get him out?"

"I could," he mused. "But you might as well make use of me. I'm here now."

"Thank you, but I have no use for you."

"Hannah," he said, coming to clench her elbow. "You're not still angry with me, are you? Did you get my letter?"

She blinked, her eye going to the floor. The envelope had fallen under a chair. Macks leaned over, picking up the unopened note. "You didn't read it?"

"I was very sick last night," she defended herself. "I forgot."

He gazed at her, looking like he was trying to decide whether or not he should be offended. "I would appreciate it if you at least did me the simple courtesy of reading it."

Even for Macks Droy, it seemed too rude to refuse, so she held out a hand. "Alright. I promise to read it if you leave."

"But I just got here."

"Captain," she said, trying to keep patience. "I have no mood for this, not today. Please, I really need to rest if I'm going to get any better."

He gazed at her for a while, looking unsure. "Alright," he relented. "As you wish." He turned, heading for the door, and she said nothing as he left.

Afterward, she went back to her room, stuffing the envelope under her pillow. She meant to sleep, but her eyes stayed stubbornly open, staring at the lonely walls and dusty air. She reached under the pillow, feeling the crispness of Macks' envelope. She dug out the note inside, holding it up near the window to read.

'Dearest Hannah,

Once again, I must apologize to you. Tonight I understood just how much I had hurt you, drawing you into matters young women should never know. I would never have asked for your help unless I believed you good enough to understand, and strong enough to play a part. I regret ever having involved you, but I hold hope that one day you will forgive the request I had to make.

To add to this, I must tell you I am leaving in a few days for the capital, Dyon. My sister has just had her first child, and I will be paying them a visit. I may be gone for some weeks. If you find yourself in need of any help, you may go to Stefan. He will watch over you and Rio in my absence.

I will await seeing you when I am back, Hannah.

Yours always,

Macks '

Hannah re-folded the letter, putting it away again. She might not be much of a reader, but she'd understood enough of that. It was exactly what she needed – a bit of peace after all that had happened. Still, she couldn't help feeling a little guilty now for how abruptly she'd turned Macks away, knowing that he was leaving for Dyon.

Rio came to the house at dusk that evening, his first time since the move. He sat next to Hannah on the bed, touching her forehead.

"What have you done to yourself?" he murmured. "Worked yourself sick."

"Don't be silly." She paused, reaching up to touch his sleeve. He was wearing the red coat again. He seemed to really favor it. "Have you ever had this washed?"

He shook his head at her. "I can already imagine you as a mother."

"I was just asking." She paused, gazing up at his warm face. His hair was growing long, like the Captain's. "How long can you stay?"

"Only a while. We have to be up early tomorrow."

She nodded, silent.

"I'll head out in a while to get water. Do you want anything else while I'm out?"

"Perhaps something to keep in the kitchen. We have no food here."

"Biscuits?"

She smiled. "You know me well."

He got up, and soon, she heard the sound of him going out the door. Dear, sweet Rio. He really was a good brother, beneath it all.

"Is the Captain going away?" she asked her brother after he'd returned.

"Yes. To Dyon. Captain Tanner will teach us in his place." He sighed. "Not sure how I feel about that."

"You'll miss him?"

"Of course I will. Won't you?"

She laughed at that. "I think I'll survive."

It was late by the time Rio finally left. Hannah pressed her face to her pillow, thinking about Macks' words underneath as she shut her eyes and slept.

...

Two days later, Hannah was doing a little better. She was able to stand and walk for longer, and was moving around the kitchen when she heard someone at the door.

It must be Rio, she thought, going over to let him in. When she saw who it was, she did a start. "Macks?"

He spread his arms, smiling lightly. "Ah. You finally got my name right."

Damn, she thought, wanting to smack herself. She stood dazed as he breezed inside. Annoyed, she threw the door shut. "I thought you'd left for Dyon," she said.

"I leave tonight."

"Then why are you here?"

"I couldn't leave before seeing how you were." He stepped close to her, studying her face for a moment. "You don't look so pale as you did last. How are you feeling?"

"Better."

He nodded. "That's good. Have you had anything to eat yet?"

She didn't answer. He turned, going into the kitchen and sniffing around. "Not a piece of anything. It's as if no one actually lives here."

"I take all my meals at Jono's."

"Let me run down and find something for you," he said, already going to the door.

"I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat, or you'll grow weak."

"I'm already weak," she argued.

He stared at her, looking concerned again. "Alright, stay here," he ordered. "I'll be back soon."

"Macks!" she called, but he burst out, not stopping to wait.

What a stubborn man. She listened to the noise of him barging downstairs, then went to peer out the window. She soon saw Macks' blond head appear, before bobbing up on his horse. He looked left and right, then settled on heading for the Corona. The horse took off so fast, they almost ran over a young man. What was he thinking, getting all panicked because of her?

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate help. It was just – how could she trust Macks Droy? She especially hated his habit of popping in on her whenever he liked. She knew it was asking for trouble.

She turned, moving to wash herself and put on a clean dress. Not that she wanted to impress anyone, but she might as well try and look decent. She checked herself in the bedroom mirror, grimacing. Not a pretty sight – and she meant more than usual. Oh, but who cared? It was just Macks Droy anyway. She tossed her hair back, wrapping herself in a rainbow of shawls.

Before long, Macks returned, darting through the door like he lived there. "I'm back," he announced.

"I can see that."

He held up a steaming bag of food. "Fishballs. My favorite."

"I told you I'm not hungry."

"I thought you might say that," he said, opening the bag. Actually, it didn't smell all that bad. It smelled better than Stephanie's cooking for sure. "So I decided I'm not going to leave here until you eat every bite."

"Get me a fork."

Macks chuckled at that, going to fetch her one from the kitchen. Was he that impossible to insult? "Do you need anything else?"

"No," she answered, starting to eat. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Shouldn't you have gotten yourself some breakfast as well?"

"I've had mine, thank you." He pulled up another chair, sitting right next to her. He waited, watching until she finished every bite. "Very fast," he commented. "I knew you were hungry."

"No, I simply had motivation."

"My, you are cruel, Hannah."

She bunched up the empty bag, cocking her head at him. "Your part of the deal now."

"Are you sure you need nothing else from me?"

"Nothing at all. So you may take your leave. I'm sure you have plenty of preparations to tend to."

Slowly, he stood up, looking unhappily at her.

"I hope you have a good trip, Captain," she said with a smile.

"You know I won't be at ease until I return and see you again." He bowed over, reaching for her hand as if to kiss it, but she pulled away.

Macks stood still, his eyes on her. He didn't look too surprised at her reaction. "This is how you treat one who likes you, Hannah?"

"Like me? You don't like me."

"Oh, I don't?"

"No. You just enjoy striving to make me like you."

"An uphill task."

"Yes. And if it were to actually happen, all the excitement would wear off, wouldn't it?"

His stare on her started to become a frown. "You seem to think you know me well."

"I've heard things, is all."

"I'm not afraid of what others might say. I have nothing to hide."

"What about Wendy?"

It seemed to happen very slowly, how the spark went out of his gaze, how his mouth clamped into a dead line. It was the first time she'd managed to affect him that way, shock him, beat away the laughing face to what he really was beneath. It was the sweetest moment she could have hoped for.

Macks shifted, stretching his back a different way. "Which Wendy?"

"Which Wendy? How many Wendys do you know?"

He tried to shrug, but there was no denying that he was uncomfortable now.

"You remember, Macks," she pressed him. "The Wendy you ran out of Magda's."

"I did not run her out."

"You broke her heart."

"No, it wasn't like that."

"I bet you flattered her, didn't you? Gave her ideas, hopes … and then when she started to take them seriously, you panicked. But it was too late to take all the words back."

"I was a friend to her. Nothing more."

"Are you sure that was all you were? A friend?"

"She had some troubles in her life. She made me out to be some sort of savior in her mind, a hope for escape. But I couldn't help her."

"How easily you've forgiven yourself."

"Hannah," he said her name very calmly, very seriously. "Wendy is gone. It's all in the past. There's no point talking about her."

"Who says there isn't a point? Have you learned your lesson, that's the important thing, or are you still doing to girls what you did to Wendy? Are you doing it to me?"

He stared at her, speechless. For a long moment, he just stood there like that, before finally he turned, striding out without even saying goodbye.

Hannah straightened up, smirking as the door pulled shut behind him. She had finally won.