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Get the bird out,” he groaned, his voice raw.
“You’re safe,” Rachel whispered. “You’re at St. Jude’s. I’m Rachel. I’m not going anywhere.”
By 5:30 a.m., his fever broke. His heart rate steadied. And then his eyes opened—steel gray and instantly alert despite his weakened condition.
“Where?” His voice was gravel.
“Hospital. You were in bad shape. Septic continue reading …
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