— quarante ; forty —

HENRI FOLDED HIS arms across his chest. "What are you doing here?"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you don't want me here," Jack said, from where he was perched cross-legged on the armchair by Henri's bed. He tipped his head to meet Henri's unimpressed gaze with his razor sharp smile. "But that can't be true because we all know I'm your favourite Fox."

Henri was already in a foul mood and Jack's presence couldn't make it much worse. For starters, none of the Foxes right now were any particular favourites of his. He was pissed off at them for admitting him to hospital even though the doctor was telling him there could have been serious consequences if he had come in even a day later. Which, Henri could infer, meant he could have died. He'd only been stuck in this stupid hospital for two days and he was already going stir-crazy confined to this bed, not that he had much of a choice. He was able to sit up and talk now without feeling faint but the moment he tried to stand up he just sunk straight back down on the bed. 

He was trying not to grow frustrated at how long it was taking the doctors to figure out what was wrong with him. He hadn't heard any word from the Master, but the phone Soren had bought him all those months ago was finally being put to good use — Soren informed him on their calls that they'd set off for West Virginia last night, regardless of the fact Henri was still in hospital and wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, and that the Master hadn't spoken a single word about what had happened. Henri had a feeling that it had more to do with the fact the Master waiting to get him alone in person before punishing him than letting him off scot-free.

A few of the other Ravens had texted him too. By Ravens, he mainly meant Kit and Lucas checking in on him (he pretended not to notice the silence from Loren) but he'd gotten the odd text from Matthias and Xander. The latter was a generic and well meaning get-well-soon text but Matthias' was wildly inappropriate and irrelevant, as expected. Henri hadn't bothered replying to the latter. He could imagine the other Ravens were celebrating now that they'd finally gotten rid of him — every day he was in the wrong state and kept away from the court was another day of practice he was missing, another day the rest of the Ravens were improving in ability while he was only getting rustier. He didn't think he'd miss Exy as much as when he couldn't even walk down the hallway without support.

It felt strange having to use his phone to communicate when he was usually around the Ravens every day without a second break and Henri realised this was the longest he'd been away from Soren since arriving in America. Their phone calls weren't anything affectionate or loving, which was about as far as their relationship would ever get. Soren updated him on the situation with the Ravens and the Master, while Henri confirmed he still had no clue what was wrong with him or why it meant he wasn't allowed to leave hospital. He wouldn't have expected anything else but it didn't mean he'd forgotten the way they'd parted, Henri weak with fever and Soren's kiss on the forehead.

"None of the Foxes are my favourite," Henri replied, understanding the long stretch of silence on Jack's part meant he would wait out a response until he got one. Henri was learning plenty about the dealer who was so difficult to get a read — as much as he could talk, he could also be endlessly silent, waiting out to hear what he wanted to. "You also didn't answer my question, which you're good at dodging. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm here for the coffee," Jack said.

Henri stared at him. "The hospital cafeteria coffee? It tastes like watered down shit."

"Exactly. How delightfully refreshing."

"You're messed up," Henri snorted, unable to tell whether Jack was joking or not. It was impossible to ever tell what was a joke and what he was being genuine about. "No wonder you're a Fox."

"A little judgemental, coming from you of all people," Jack remarked.

Henri decided to ignore that comment. "Speaking of, don't you have practice now? Or class or something? It's the middle of the afternoon."

"I could lie and say I have a free period, but I'm nothing if not honest." Jack sipped at his watered down shit cafeteria and pulled a face. "Ugh. Disgusting. Anyway, yeah, I'm supposed to be at afternoon Exy practice right now. So using the premise of visiting you gives me the excuse to skip. Not that I've been given permission to ditch. No, Wymack and that idiot Josten will give me hell for it later. Shame that I couldn't give less of a shit."

"Excuse?" Henri repeated. "Why do you need an excuse?"

"Because I'm not in the mood to play today," Jack said, as if Henri was being particularly dense for asking. "Lucky you, getting to sit in bed all day and not be expected to do anything."

"Lucky?" Henri shook his head in disbelief. "Are you fucking kidding me? I hate it in here. I hate being stuck in bed, I hate being forced to eat grim hospital food that only makes throw up, and I hate not even knowing what's wrong with me."

"The food isn't that bad, kid," another voice chipped in. "You ever been deployed for army regiments? Well, I have. Now that's shit food."

The unasked for comment had come from the elderly man in the bed next to him. He'd been moved from his own private room to one of the wards yesterday, which was nothing more than a long corridor of beds on either side filled with sick patients. It was constantly filled with the low murmur of conversation and the humming noises of countless machines and coughing, always coughing. The only privacy Henri could earn for himself was the flimsy curtains separating him for the rest of the ward but they weren't drawn right now, meaning their conversation could be eavesdropped on by everyone. Including the man being treated for kidney stones in the neighbouring bed who liked to stick his nose in Henri's business all the time.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Henri said dryly. "I'll bear that in mind while I'm vomiting up the five star gourmet they're feeding me in this place." He turned to Jack, who had nothing more to say and seemed to be waiting for him to continue the conversation. "Nothing about my life is lucky. I'm only going to get in shit when I'm finally shipped off back to the Ravens."

"Interesting. Why?"

"Do you really care?"

"Let me tell you something, Henri," Jack said, returning again to speak in that weirdly solemn manner which Henri was almost 90% sure wasn't actually serious. "I never ask anything if I don't care. If I didn't care, why would I ask?"

Henri wasn't expecting such a simply straightforward answer and was backed into a surprised laugh. "Strangely enough, that makes sense," he said. "It's probably the first thing you've ever said that makes complete sense."

"Possibly rude, probably offensive, but I won't take it personally. Why do the Ravens want to kill you?"

"That's a whole other story," Henri said. "I don't want to talk about the Ravens or their inexplicable hatred for me. The Master, however, will be very angry. His is an anger I can't really ignore like the others. I broke more than one rule just being here."

"Only bringing up more questions." Jack has this strange habit of tipping his head and studying him through the dark strands of his hair falling in his eyes. It was a little feral and a little rough around the edges. "Why call him the Master? Why do those Ravens hate you? What rules are there? I always break the rules, drives Abby up the wall, but I can't imagine it's of any consequence to me."

"Well, that's lucky for you," Henri muttered, feeling the edges of exhaustion creeping up on him. He tried to stay awake for as much of the day as possible but when he had to talk, he got drained so much more quickly. He was finding it difficult to believe there was a time when he'd juggled Exy and college and work all at the same time. "Some of us have consequences and they're very real."

"Boo-hoo," Jack said, but there wasn't anything very mean in his tone. It was as light and unbothered as everything he said or did.

Henri tipped his head back against the pillow and fought the urge to let his eyes drift shut. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask whatever you want. Doesn't mean I'll answer it."

"Figures. Do you even like Exy?" Henri asked. "Why would you skip out on practice all the time if you cared enough to join a Class I team?"

Jack drummed his fingers against the armrest of his chair and studied Henri as he considered his answer, or maybe just had nothing to say, with an unblinking gaze. Henri didn't look away. Even when the hairs on the back of his neck rose and he felt a little on edge, he didn't look away. Because this felt like a challenge and Henri knew sure as hell he wouldn't back down from any challenge.

"Do you even like Exy?" Jack finally returned.

"Not letting you dodge out of it that easily. You're not even subtle."

"Subtlety's boring. I like Exy, Henri," Jack said, still drumming his fingers in an uneven beat. "I like it plenty but it's more complicated than that. When isn't it ever more complicated? Don't forget, I'm part of the Foxes. We're broken and emotionally traumatised and all that shit."

"Why's it more complicated?"

"Don't you wish I'd tell you."

Talking to Jack was like trying to navigate a confusing minefield where even one wrong word would blow up in his face and Henri was far too tired to deal with it now. "Time for you to go back to practice," Henri murmured. "I'm going to fall asleep. Whatever ditching entertainment you're deriving from me, it's done. Game over."

"Not so fast. Doctor coming this way," Jack said.

Henri sighed and propped himself up in time to see Dr Knowles, the doctor who had been handling him this entire time, striding straight towards him. The group of nurses tagging along behind her was a new addition and they were all looking at Henri like he was a poor little child abandoned on the roadside. It wasn't exactly how a patient in a hospital wanted to be looked at. Someone should have taught them at medical school to school their facial expressions into something a little less concerning. They would've done well taking lessons from the Ravens — they were unrivalled in terms of mastering a poker face.

"Have you finally figured out what's wrong with me?" Henri asked.

"Yeah, doc, what's the verdict?" Jack reclined back in his chair as if it was a throne rather than a uncomfortable bedside chair. "Is he gonna die?"

A couple of the nurses looked horrified at his blasé tone and Dr Knowles glanced at Henri with a frown. "Are you okay for him to stay for this discussion?" she asked. "Or would you rather be alone?"

"Alone. Go away," Henri told him.

"So hurtful. You don't trust me?"

"No."

Jack rose without any argument and smiled without any humour at Henri before taking his leave. Another thing Henri had noticed about the Fox in the short period of time they'd been acquainted, if Jack turning up unannounced to the hospital could count as an acquaintance — he smiled, more often than not, but it was usually mocking and lacked any of the warmth associated with a smile. It hadn't changed that Henri had no idea what Jack was thinking or what game he was playing at but most of all, Henri didn't know why Jack was even coming to see him. Anytime he asked he simply evaded any real answer with an off-colour joke or irrelevant comments.

"Okay, Henri, before we discuss your diagnosis," Dr Knowles said, "I want to ask you a few questions."

Henri shrugged. "Okay."

"Did you have a cold before you came here? A cold or the flu?"

Henri nodded. "I thought I just had the flu. Wait, is it just the flu?"

Dr Knowles exchanged a look with one of the nurses. "Ah, no. Not quite so simple as that. How long did you have this flu for?"

"I don't know, a couple of weeks. Maybe more."

"And had you been taking aspirin to manage the symptoms?"

Henri nodded again.

Dr Knowles scribbled something down on her clipboard. "And you're seventeen, correct?"

"Yeah," Henri said slowly. "Is there a point to all of this?"

"We originally suspected you might have been suffering from meningitis or glandular fever," Dr Knowles said. "Your symptoms aligned with the presentation of those. It took us a while to get your medical records from France, hence the delay, but I can see you've had your jabs for meningitis and the blood results came back negative for glandular."

"So what?" Henri was even more confused. "What is it?"

"We think you have a rare illness called Reye's syndrome," Dr Knowles explained. "Usually, the trigger is taking aspirin after recovery from viral illnesses and is especially common among people below the age of eighteen. It can cause swelling of the liver and brain, leading to potentially long term damage. Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

"Look, if I'm going to die, just spit it out," Henri muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "Enough of this tiptoeing business. I just want to sleep."

"You're not going to, uh, die," Dr Knowles said delicately. "Luckily, you came in before the swelling could spread to your brain and we could stop the progress before it could have a serious effect on your life. However, your liver has been compromised and your blood pressure was dangerously low when you were brought in. You'll be looking at an extended period of stay here until your treatment is complete and you're well enough to return to be discharged."

"Extended period of how long?" Henri asked warily. "I'm an Exy player, I can't be away from the court for so long."

"You won't be going anywhere near any type of sports for a while," one of the nurses said sternly. "That's strict orders from the doctor. Your body is already extremely weak and you'll never recover if you push yourself."

Another nurse nodded. "That's right. You're on bed rest for at least two weeks."

"Two weeks?" Henri tried to struggle up into a sitting position but even his alarm wasn't enough to reinvigorate him. "Two...two weeks, no, I can't do that, I've already been gone for too long — "

"Henri, this is non-negotiable," Dr Knowles said. "You can't even stand up. There isn't a chance you'll be returning to Exy until you're deemed fit enough. If you stick with the rules and don't push yourself, you should be able to leave within two weeks. If you make life difficult and try to go too far before you're ready, you'll only be delaying your own recovery. You'll be in here for much longer."

Henri slumped back against the bed and scowled. "Fine. Whatever. Am I allowed to at least walk to the bathroom myself or is that too exerting?"

"Yes," Dr Knowles, only smiling at his bitter sarcasm. "You can walk anywhere you're able to within this hospital, Henri. You're not a prisoner here."

"Debatable," Henri muttered under his breath.

Dr Knowles and the nurses went on to explain his treatment, the best way to manage his symptoms and easing him into a meal plan to combat the fact he couldn't keep anything down, but Henri was reeling at news he would be stuck in South Carolina for such a long period of time. He would have snuck out and caught the first flight back to West Virginia, doctors orders be damned, if he thought he could have even made it past the hospital doors without passing out. He knew the doctors weren't exaggerating about how weak he was but it didn't change the fact that he hated everything about this. After so many months of practicing Exy every single day, he couldn't bear the thought of so long without a racquet in hand.

It was followed by the slow rise of fear. Without practice, he'd fall behind in terms of ability, and without ability, the Master wouldn't let him play. He was useless if he couldn't play. Not to mention Henri belonged to the Master now and he would be punished severely for daring to stray so far from Edgar Allan. It didn't matter if it wasn't his choice or that he didn't want to be here. None of that would matter to the Master.

After he'd been left alone, Henri felt this resolute determination to get out of bed even though his body wanted nothing more than to drift off. He'd already been chained to this bed for two days now and his body was better than that. He could prove that he was fine. He glanced around to make sure no one was paying any attention to him. Some of the patients were being checked up on by doctors while others were being visited by family members, and a lot were simply sleeping or reading. No one was watching as he slipped the IV drip out of his elbow with a wince and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, shivering. It only got worse when his feet touched the cold tiles.

Standing up was enough to make his head spin but he refused to give in that easily. He meant heavily against the bed, giving himself a moment to catch his breath, before pushing off from the frame. He managed a few shaky steps down the ward before a concerned nurse appeared at his side and asked him if he needed any help.

"Fine." Henri squeezed his eyes shut to wait out the dizzy spell washing over him. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth.

He needed to be discharged as soon as possible. If he could just prove to Dr Knowles that he was perfectly okay to be allowed to returned to West Virginia. His vision was beginning to darken at the edges even as he made it to the end of the ward and he must have stumbled, because someone caught his arm. He couldn't hear what they were saying. What the hell was wrong with him? He'd never lost control of his body like this and he'd barely started to pull away before he completely blacked out.