Page 166 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

“You’re warm.”

“I’m under seven blankets.”

He stood before I could surrender all dignity and lean into his hand.

“I brought ramen,” he said.

My soul, which had been hovering somewhere near the ceiling, returned to my body. “Packet ramen?”

He looked offended. “No.”

“Oh. Because I have packet ramen.”

“I brought ramen from Yoshiro.”

I blinked. “Yoshiro as in the place with the waiting list?”

“Yes.”

“The place where people post broth pictures like engagement announcements?”

“I wasn’t aware of that practice.”

“That bowl costs more than my electric bill.”

The corner of his mouth moved, but he only said, “Can you sit up?”

I could, barely. He helped without making it feel like a production, fluffing pillows behind me. The ramen was still hot, with extra broth, soft egg, scallions, chicken, and the good kind of noodles, which meant not the kind that came with a silver packet of powdered sodium and hope.

“Eat slowly,” he said.

“You’re not my real dad.”

“That’s fortunate for both of us.”

He left before I could make that worse.

I heard him in my tiny kitchen: water running, the kettle clicking on, a cabinet opening and closing. A few minutes later, he returned with ginger tea in my chipped blue mug, honey stirred in, steam curling above it.

He set it beside the bed, then lined up the cough drops, tissues, medicine, and water on my nightstand as if preparing a siege.

“This is intense,” I said.

“This is basic care.”

The worst part was that he seemed to believe that. He looked at me then, and for a second the room went quiet. Max settled on the floor beside the bed, close enough that his back touched the frame. I ate slowly at first, then less slowly because the broth was warm and perfectly salty. Rafe sat in the chair near the bed, his suit jacket removed, sleeves rolled once at the cuffs.

“How was work?” I asked, because my brain had clearly not been humbled enough.

“No.”

“No?”

“You’re not asking about work.”

“I’m very invested in the fifth relic.”

“You are feverish and eating soup in bed.”