Peter had sat by Myka’s side for three hours without any change. He wasn’t getting worse, but he wasn’t getting better either.
But as he stared at Myka, he thought of their conversation inside the tent and their passion throughout the rest of the night.
Peter could not just sit around and wait, hoping someone would find an answer.
He went to the supply closet and grabbed what he needed. Then, he hurried back and collected the samples from Myka.
Peter gently touched Myka’s hair, moving the blue strands from his eyes.
“I’m not giving up,” he whispered. “But I can help you more by working than sitting here waiting.”
His fingers ran over something, a leaf. He pulled it out of Myka’s hair. It was a strange find, but he assumed it must have been from the fight.
Peter pressed a gentle kiss against Myka’s temple before he left the room.
