I hesitantly knocked on Liam's closed bedroom door as Achilles stood by my side, giving me a supportive squeeze to my shoulder. Not wanting to accidentally wake him if he was still sleep, I called out softly, "Can we come inside, honey?" Surprisingly, even though it was still quite early in the morning at only 7 AM, a flurry of scrambles scurried about behind the closed doors. The sound of fluttering papers and dropping pencils floated out from the room until the door finally opened up was a messy little boy standing in front of us. Although he was in his pajamas, his hair was tousled every which way and his eyes had little bags hanging underneath them. His face was pale, almost as if it had been completed drained of life. Handing the bowl of fruits off to Achilles, I worriedly crouched down to Liam's height and cupped his little face between my hands, gently turning his head side to side in a panic. "Are you not feeling well? But you're not warm... Do you have a headache? A sore
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