When the Story Continues (Sequel to When the Script Changes)

Chapter 8: The Second Fever - A Race Against Time

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11:22 PM – The Fastest They'd Ever Moved

Shoes. Keys. Wallet.

The dogs whimpered as they watched their moms rush around the house, sensing the urgency.

"We'll be back soon, boys," Freen called over her shoulder, slinging the diaper bag across her body.

Becky was already at the door, cradling Mon close.

Freen opened the car door so fast she nearly ripped it off.

"Strap in, babe," she instructed, climbing into the driver's seat.

Becky buckled Mon into her car seat, keeping a gentle but firm hand on her belly.

Then—

Freen slammed her foot on the gas.

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11:30 PM – The Drive From Hell

Freen had never driven this fast in her life.

The streets were quiet at this hour, but it didn't make her feel any safer.

She kept one hand on the wheel, the other reaching blindly for Becky's leg, needing to feel her warmth.

Becky clutched her fingers tightly.

"She's still breathing okay," Becky reported, checking Mon every few seconds. "But she's so hot, Freen."

Freen tightened her grip on the wheel.

They weren't losing her.

Not a chance.

"Baby, talk to her," Freen said, voice tight with emotion. "Just keep talking."

Becky nodded quickly.

"Mon, baby," she whispered, stroking her cheek, "Mom and Mama are right here, okay? You're so strong, my love. We're almost there."

Mon's tiny whimper was the only response.

And Freen felt her heart break all over again.

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11:38 PM – The ER Doors Fly Open

The moment Freen pulled up to the hospital, she didn't even bother turning off the engine.

She just jumped out, running around to the backseat, yanking the door open.

Becky was already unbuckling Mon, moving as fast as she could without jostling her.

A nurse spotted them immediately, eyes widening at the sight of their panicked faces.

"She has a high fever—39.6!" Freen called out as they rushed inside.

That was all it took.

Within seconds, they were being ushered into a room.

Doctors. Nurses. Bright lights.

Freen felt nauseous.

She hated this part.

Hated watching as someone took Mon out of Becky's arms, laying her on the hospital bed.

Hated the sound of her baby's weak cries.

Hated how helpless she felt.

Becky grabbed Freen's hand.

Freen gripped back, hard.

And then—

They waited.

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12:02 AM – Answers

Dr. Ploy entered the room, calm but serious.

"She's stable now," she started. "We've managed to bring her fever down a little."

Freen felt Becky sag in relief beside her.

"But," Dr. Ploy continued, "this isn't just a normal fever this time. It's a viral infection."

Freen's stomach dropped. "What does that mean?"

"It means we'll need to keep her here for the night," Dr. Ploy explained gently. "She needs IV fluids, and we'll monitor her closely to make sure she's recovering well."

Becky made a small, broken sound.

Freen immediately pulled her close.

"She's going to be okay, babe," she whispered, even as her own eyes stung with tears.

Becky nodded against her shoulder.

"I just—I hate seeing her like this," she admitted, voice trembling.

Freen exhaled shakily.

"Me too."

Then, they both turned to look at their little girl.

Mon was sleeping now, her tiny body hooked up to a small IV, her breathing calmer.

Still weak.

Still recovering.

But safe.

And that was all that mattered.

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3:17 AM – Holding On

The hospital room was quiet now, except for the steady beeping of machines.

Freen sat on one side of Mon's bed.

Becky sat on the other.

Their hands were joined over their daughter's tiny body, neither of them willing to move.

Freen lifted Becky's hand to her lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss.

"We're getting through this," she murmured.

Becky looked at her, eyes still watery.

"You always say that," she whispered.

Freen smirked. "Because it's always true."

Becky let out a soft, tired laugh.

And as Mon slept peacefully between them, as the worst of the night slowly faded into morning—

Freen knew.

No matter what happened—

No matter how many times they had to rush to the hospital, how many fevers, sleepless nights, and terrifying moments they had to face—

They would always get through it.

Together.