"Butterfly?"
She coughed.
"My eyes ache," she told me.
Crystal stirred. I turned on the lamp. As soon as
my eyes grew accustomed to the light, I gasped.
"Crystal!"
"What?" She sat up quickly and looked down at
Butterfly. Her nose was running, she was grimacing
with pain, but her cheeks were blotched red. Crystal
put her palm on Butterfly's forehead. "She's burning
up," she told me.
"Wha . . . what's happening?" Raven called. "It
can't be time to get up. It just can't be."
"Butterfly's sick," I shouted and turned to Crystal. "What's wrong with her?"
Butterfly coughed again and sniffed. Without
replying, Crystal went to the bathroom and wet down
a washcloth. She brought it back and put it on
Butterfly's forehead.
"Where does it hurt, Butterfly?" she asked
quietly. Raven appeared in the doorway, finally
realizing what was happening around her.
"What is it? What's wrong with her?"
"My eyes hurt," Butterfly said. "Here," she
added indicating where they ached.
Crystal opened Butterfly's shirt and looked at
her chest and stomach.
"Do you know what's wrong with her?" I asked.
"I think so," Crystal said.
"What?" Raven demanded impatiently. Crystal looked at us. "I think she's got the
measles."