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    Summary

    Ilya returned to the bedroom with tea and toast balanced on a tray, catching the tail end of a phone call.

    "—fine, Mom. Don't worry. It's just a sore throat…"

    "No, I don't need anything, Ilya's just brought up breakfast…"

    "He's alright, we've got an appointment with Dr. Tricia this afternoon for his cough…"

    "No, Mom, I don't need one booked for myself, I'm fine — alright, alright, I'll see if I can get myself in with him." He huffed, then let his shoulders drop. "Love you too, Mom."

    "Love to you and David," Ilya hollered, voice ragged. "Give Anya a kiss from us."

    Shane put the call on speaker so Ilya could hear Yuna's reply — "We love you, Ilya. Anya loves you too" — before they hung up. Ilya looked thoroughly pleased with his contribution to the call, while Shane scrubbed a hand down his face, clearly less thrilled. He typed something furious into his phone for a minute before dropping it onto the bed and covering his eyes with one hand.

    "Looks like we've both got appointments with Dr. Tricia this afternoon."

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