#Chapter 262 Sick

Charles A shrill, panicked scream pierced the quiet of the morning, shattering the fragile peace that had settled over the house. I bolted out of bed, racing down the hallway toward the sound. It was coming from Richard's room. I heard Grace stumbling out of her room as I reached the room. Richard was in his crib, his small body wracked with uncontrollable tremors, his face flushed with a feverish heat. He wailed again before vomitting, a sickly yellow liquid stained the sheets, but it was the streaks of blood around his head that was the real problem. Grace came up behind me, she rushed forward, but I put up my arm. "Move!" She snarled. "He could be contagious," I said, holding her back. "And you're in--" "He's my baby!" "I know," I said, gently. "Just let me go first, okay?" She sobbed, shaking and looking pale. I approached the crib quickly, but I already knew what this was. Richard had Crescent Flu, but how? I picked him up, rumbling at him and casting a gentle healing spe