C22 TWENTY TWO

When Sorrows Come

SAM

When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions

— William Shakespeare, Hamlet

THE GROANING WOKE me from the shallow sleep I'd fallen into. On autopilot, my hand reached for the washcloth soaking in cool water and placed it on Drake's head, mopping up sweat, cooling off his feverish body. A lock of blond hair fell over his eyes, and I brushed it away