Crester, 27. Winton’s 2011 WES course, the muscles taut beneath his shin. As Debra stood there, he could almost feel his heartbeat.

She pulled her hand back. “Sorry, didn’t steady myself.”

“It’s for you. You won’t fall.”

A man entered the room, handing him a set of brand-new clothes. Marion placed them on a nearby table and turned to Debra. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

Debra nodded, her body still warm from last night’s fever. She was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Only after Marion stepped out did she head to the bathroom to wash off the remnants of her illness.

Outside the door, Marion listened to the sound of running water, the warmth of Debra’s touch still lingering on his arm. He swallowed hard.

After a while, Debra emerged from the bathroom, dressed in clean clothes.

“Ready? Let’s go.”

She wore a crisp casual shirt and jeans, her hair still damp and cascading in waves over her shoulders. Marion approached her, gently gathering her hair in his hands. He led her back into the room.

“Where’s the hairdryer?”

Debra handed him the hairdryer, watching as he plugged it in and began to dry her hair. His movements were smooth and practiced, his fingers lifting her hair carefully as he worked. He only stopped once her hair was completely dry.

“You’re even better at drying hair than I am,” Debra complimented.

She hadn’t thoroughly dried her hair earlier, thinking it was just a quick fix.