Theiionroomwasquiet—nothingbutthetiny,regurdripofliquidile,aeadyhumoftheoldairditioner.

        ElianhadsprinteddownNanyangStreetin30°C86°Fheatwithaheavybackpahisshoulder,thencarriedoutanadrenaline-fueled“patientcaptureoperation.”Nowthateverythinghadfinallygoill,theic’scooirwashedoverhim,andthemomenthismusclesunched,exhaustiediide.

        He’dooleanagainstthewalhiseyesforased.ButlisteningtoCra’sbreathinggraduallysmoothoutasthefevermedietookeffect,hisownawarenessblurredwithit.

        Stillholdingherlefthand,hedriftedintosleep.

        Abouthalfanhourpassed.

        Theclearliquidfinallyreachedtheend,andthelinegaveafainthollowsound.

        “TheIV’sdone!I’mgoingtoremovetheneedlenow,”thenursesaidbrightlyasshepushedthestainless-steelcartba.Hervoicebroketheroom’squiet—andcarriedstraightintoElian’ssleep.

        Elianwasoutcold.Hisbraindidn’teveimetoprocessthewords.

        Ised,asharp,searingpainexplodedinhispalm—

        “Hss—!”

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