Sophie stirred at the faint sound of his voice, low and raspy. She blinked against the morning light spilling through the curtains, her eyes landing on Drake as he shifted restlessly on the bed.
"Althea…" he muttered, his voice cracking like it carried the weight of something unspeakable.
Sophie frowned, inching closer. “Drake?”
He didn’t respond, his brow furrowing deeply as he whispered the name again. Althea.
Her chest tightened. Who was Althea? The name meant nothing to her, yet the way he said it—it was almost desperate.
She reached out, her hand hovering just above his shoulder before gently pressing against it. “Drake, it’s me. Sophie.”
His eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused. For a moment, it was as though he didn’t recognize her. Then his gaze softened, and the corners of his mouth twitched in something like relief.
“Sophie,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.
“Yeah,” she murmured, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach. “It’s me. You’re burning up.”
Her han
