Morgan Joyce pointed to the nightstand drawer. "In there."
Hannah Hale turned, took the thermometer out of the drawer, and leaned over to check Morgan Joyce's forehead. "101.7 degrees. Get up and change. I'm taking you to the hospital right now."
"Trust me, I'm really fine. I'll take some medicine, get some sleep, and the fever will definitely be gone by tomorrow."
"You're burning up. You really need an IV drip. I'm a doctor; you have to listen to me."
Morgan Joyce covered his mouth and coughed a few times. He caught his breath before speaking. "I'm hungry. You probably haven't eaten either, right? Could you make me some congee first?"
Hannah Hale glared at him. "Then you lie here and don't move. I'll call you when the food is ready."
"Okay."
Hannah Hale leaned over, tucked Morgan Joyce in, and then went to the kitchen.
