Jenna touched his arm, studying his face, and began to smile. «Run now, Mikhail. Run down the hill and wait for me, but run by yourself. Go on, you lazy thing! Run!»
He ran, his legs scissoring the air, his feet pounding the earth, the wind whipping his face and cooling his body, taking the breath from him, replacing it with new breath. He reached the bottom of the hill far below, his chest expanding with each gasp, quiet laughter coming from his throat. The fever was passing; soon it would be gone. Again.
He looked up at Jenna, the sun behind her, the blue sky above. He shouted between swallows of air, «Come on, you lazy thing! I’ll race you back to the house. Our house!»
«I’ll trip you at the last moment!» yelled Jenna, coming down the hill rapidly but not running. «You know I can do it!»
«It won’t do you any good!» Michael took out a bright metal object from his pocket. «I’ve got the key to the door. Our door!»
«Silly!» Jenna shouted, breaking into a run. «You didn’t lock it! We’ve never locked it!»
She came to him and they held each other.
«We don’t have to,» he said. «Not any longer.»