“No,” Malachi shook his head, vehement. “No doctors. Nettie, don’t, please.”

He’d been mostly quiet while she tended to him, unable to muster up the strength to speak while she looked upon him in his current condition – but the mention of a doctor had his heart jump in an unpleasant fluttering way.

“It won’t get worse. I’m already feeling better than I was,” he lied. “I’ll keep an eye on all of it and I’ll come to you if I need help again, alright?”