Laurel's brows remained knitted as she held Chris's wrist, her fingers pressing lightly against his pulse while her mind worked rapidly. His heartbeat was uneven, rising and falling in an unstable rhythm that made her chest tighten.
This was not how his condition was supposed to progress. She had calculated everything carefully before bringing him here. The environment was safer, the food was cleaner, and his treatments had been consistent.
Yet his condition had worsened.
Laurel slowly released his hand, her gaze drifting toward the slightly opened window. Even though it had been sealed properly, the faint heaviness in the air was unmistakable. The rain outside had not stopped for hours, and with it came a thick humidity.
Her eyes sharpened. "That must be it… the change in humidity.'
