Ill Na Na 2: The Fever Novels & Stories

“That would be super inconvenient for me emotionally.” She carefully moved my head off her lap and onto the pillow before standing up. I watched her walk out of the room while I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, suddenly aware of how awful I probably looked. A second later I heard the front door open. “Is she okay?” Jayson’s voice came immediately, low and tense. “She hasn’t answered a single call all day.” “She has a fever,” Mila replied. Calm. Sharp. “Like an actual fever. Not whatever dramatic rich people think counts as suffering.”

He quickly rushed to start the car, with Natalie following closely. Inside the car, Natalie attempted to hold Luna, but something was gravely wrong. Luna convulsed, and Natalie could see the feverish redness on her face even in the dim light. Her temperature was alarmingly high. "Luna..." Natalie's voice trembled with fear. Clyde swiftly removed the blankets and stripped Luna of her clothes. Natalie watched, her heart pounding in terror. "You...!" "Her temperature is dangerously high," Clyde said gravely, concern evident in his eyes. Such a high fever could have severe consequences for a child not yet two years old.

It was quieter here, even the air felt softer than it was in the other rooms. On the bed lay Imani, beneath the milk coloured covers. Her small body looked twisted in half sleep while her face wore a pale sheen. Isla’s chest went tighter as she moved forward to sit beside her, placing one hand on her daughter’s skin. Her expression shifted in an instant. What she felt was a worrisome burning heat. “God” Her precious baby had developed a fever “Imani…” Isla whispered, leaning closer with her breath trembling. The girl stirred again, still half asleep, her lips were so dry.

My room was bathed in a silvery brightness from the beautiful moonlight that filled the night. I was so anxious to see Leo that I felt like I had a fever. I had invited him to my room, telling him that I wanted to appreciate his kindness for getting me a sword but that was totally a lie since I had another motive.

She was burning up. “Bella,” I barked quietly, not taking my eyes off her. “Get medication, water in a bowl, and a towel—quickly. Lyla’s got a fever.” I could hear Bella rushing out of the room, her footsteps fast and urgent, the sound of her heels echoing down the hall. I turned back to Lyla, my gaze softening as I took in the sight of her. Her face was streaked with tears, her pillow soaked in a small pool of wetness. It was clear she’d been crying in her sleep, trapped in some fevered dream.

I want to see her beautiful eyes but she seems to be in deep sleep. I lightly caress my fingers on the cheek and feel the hotness. I put the back of my hand on her forehead and felt the hotness. She is burning with fever. I look behind me and see Lillian who is standing obediently with her head bowed. Why is she standing here like a useless statue?

ANYA’S The van smelled like old copper and stale coffee, a cold and metallic box that rattled with every jagged mile Lila put between us and that crumbling motel. I sat on the hard floor and braced my body against the vibrating wheel well, cradling Kai’s head in my lap while the world outside blurred into a dark streak of pines. He was shaking again, the violent heat of his fever finally breaking only to leave him clammy and shivering against the bitter mountain air that whistled through the gaps in the door.

After getting up and preparing a meal, she noticed Luana hadn't woken up. Feeling something was amiss, she knocked on Luana's door and called out to her, but there was no response. Clarissa hurriedly opened the door and found Luana's face flushed red. She touched her forehead and exclaimed, "You're burning up..." She quickly pulled back the covers, helped Luana up, and said, "Luana, you have a fever. Get up, and I'll take you to the hospital." Delirious from the fever, Luana instinctively resisted at the mention of "hospital", "No hospital..."

This was going to be a disaster. Lanka had finished moving the last of his things from the apartment he’d shared with Carllo earlier that afternoon. Carllo had left for a late-night shoot with a film crew, leaving Lanka alone in his new, quiet space. He had gone to bed early, feeling a strange, heavy fatigue in his limbs. Sleep came quickly, but it wasn't restful. He felt as though he were wandering through a scorching wasteland, his throat parched and his body leaden. He struggled to claw his way back to consciousness and realized he was burning up with a high fever.

Nana mutters weakly, “Just some meds for fever. I’ll lie down here. If you can find me food that’d help too.” Felisha hesitates, clearly not convinced, but eventually nods. “Fine. Don't dare move. I’ll be back.” Even after taking the medication, the fever refuses to break. Nana's body trembles uncontrollably, her skin clammy and hot. It's like her whole system is shutting down, and she doesn't understand why. She should be calming down, not getting worse. Restless, she gets up and looks out the window. The moon hangs low, bathing the pack house grounds in pale light. It's dead quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves. Something in her instincts tells her to move, like a pull, she can