The next morning, Mike woke up with a heaviness still lingering in his chest.
Is Misty okay now? he wondered.
He stepped out of his room and walked toward his parents' room. Before he could knock, the door opened.
This time, it was his mother.
"She's fine now," she said softly, a gentle smile on her face. "She's no longer shivering in her sleep."
Mike felt his shoulders loosen slightly. "Can I see her?"
His mother nodded and stepped aside.
Mike looked inside.
Misty was sleeping peacefully on the bed, her small arms wrapped around her bunny plushie. Her breathing was steady, her expression calm—just like before. There was no trembling, no fear etched into her face.
And in the air, there was still a faint, soothing fragrance.
Mike inhaled slowly and finally let out a quiet breath of relief.
"…Good," he murmured.
I'll buy more of those flowers, he decided silently. There are still three petals left. I won't take any chances.
