Chapter 30

“Come in,” Mum called, her voice faint.

I pushed open the door. She was sitting up in bed, a crocheted throw over her legs, her eyes red and her fingers knotted around a handkerchief. My heart lurched. “What’s wrong, Mum?”

“It’s you.” She blotted her eyes and blew her nose before sinking back on her bed. “Thank God.”

Micajah hurried to her side and took her wrist between his elegant fingers.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded this time, terrified.

“I was afraid it was your uncle. He came up earlier—”

“I thought he was taking a nap.”

“He probably is now.”

“Are you all right? What did he want?”

“He kept haranguing me, demanding to know what Dr. Autry is to you. I finally told him nothing more than your professor. I know that might not be strictly true, but if I said anything else, he’d give you nothing but grief.”

“Your pulse is a little fast,” Micajah said.

“I’ll be fine.” She drew her wrist from his grasp and turned her gaze to me. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”