When Lydia woke up, it was dark. A dim light lit up the space. She did not recognize the room. The wind howled. It seemed to weep.

“Don’t move,” a soft comforting voice filled the air. Lydia turned her head. Ola sat on the chair next to the bed. “How are you feeling?” She asked, keeping her voice low and gentle. 

Lydia barely grasped an answer. Her throat ached painfully.

 “Don’t talk if you can’t,” Ola whispered, reaching towards Lydia.

 Her hand gently rested on her forehead. “Your fever went down,” she added with relief. 

Lydia looked at her with worry and confusion. “I brought you to my room. I...