Holly watched Jack sleep, swallowing back the painful coughs that scratched at her throat. He was so still in slumber, more peaceful than he ever looked when he was awake. He almost smiled, lashes dark against his white skin.
Nearly choking on abrupt, senseless tears – what was she crying over? – Holly scrambled to her feet and went to the door. “Sorry, Jack,” she choked out. “Sudden realization of girl genes. Can’t stand the sight of you. Be back later.”
She glanced down at herself once she was safely in the hallway. Hair a greasy rat’s nest, wearing that gaping hospital shift, her shoes long lost...
I need a makeover.
The fever’s achey blanket made Holly shudder, but she yanked the last of the temperature monitor out of her wrist and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. She couldn’t help Jack if she was busy being a damsel in distress. Time to suck it up.
Holly sneezed and clapped a hand to her nose. Maybe literally.
Four hours later, Holly stepped out of the hotel room bathroom and examined herself in the mirror. She had gotten her hair cut to her preferred bob – somewhere, someone was enjoying a four-foot-long wing of strawberry red. A thrift store visit had gotten her the white blouse, white pants, black belt, and white headband, and the hotel room had equaled a long shower.
Not bad, convict, she told herself, nodding to the reflection. Not bad.
She threw away the hospital clothes, paid the hotel for the room, and wandered back out into the city. The shower had helped alleviate the worst of her fever, but it still wasn’t nearly cold enough to take away the livid aches in her bones. Holly shoved up the sleeves of her blouse and focused on ignoring the fever.
Okay. Issues. Holly stopped in a small park, crawling into an ice cave that was stained green. The scent of snow and the aura of cold filled her senses, and she let her shoulders relax. Problems... Hermes frostbitten by Jack, Jack’s curse, I’m crazy too...
She leaned back against the igloo’s wall and fell asleep.
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