Autumn, September, 1915.

The café was closed for the day. Jesse had to work with Lee all day for an upcoming shipment that would bring their work to Hamilton for a while. Bill had gone in for a haircut from Fiona and they ended up having a conversation about Clara.

"Bill, have you seen Clara today? Or yesterday? Or Jesse?" Fiona asked him as she clipped some of his hair.

"Not much. I've been busy with some other things. I've asked the new waiter we hired a few weeks ago if he had seen Clara."

"What'd Chucky say?"

"She never came down once. Jesse did come by and stayed for an hour before going back with Lee." He explained. "When was the last time you two did something together?"

"She, Faith and I tried to get together last Friday for the movie that Lucas was going to show that night."

Bill smirked. "Not with Kevin?"

"Nope. Girls night," She had a light laugh. "But when we got to the door, Jesse told us that Clara wasn't feeling too well. We checked on her the next day and she seemed find just walking around. You didn't notice?"

"Again, busy with other things." Bill explained. "What do you mean just walking around?"

Fiona attempted to place the words together in a way that made sense. "She told us that she was trying to get herself tired so that when it came to bedtime, she'd be able to sleep."

That did seem a little off about Clara. Bill tried to remember if there was anything off about her that he's noticed but not fully grasp. Then he recalled one Sunday morning, somewhat recent, where Clara was awake but not awake... She was sleeping at the kitchen table, her head just about in the plate of food she made for herself. Bill had to shake her a few times and call her name to get her to wake up. She did, then snapped at Bill for waking her up—rapidly apologizing for yelling at him shortly after. Clara was pale in her face and she looked exhausted. Droopy eyes, messy hair that seemed to be stuck together in a matte way. He recalled asking if she were okay, if she were sick, and Clara nodded...Then she went upstairs and went back to bed for the next ten hours.

The door opened and Faith came in holding a sandwich from the saloon. "Hey, I got your favorite grilled cheese Fiona."

"What's wrong with the cafe's grilled cheese?"

Faith attempted to not laugh. "Well...Lucas let me made this one in specific. He allowed me to use three mixes of cheese."

Fiona nearly dropped her clippers. "Three kinds? Hand it over, Ma'am!" Faith tossed it and Fiona caught it naturally. "Excelled tossing."

What do these girls do when nobody is around? Bill thought to himself. "Faith, have you seen Clara lately? Besides her walking around to get herself asleep?"

Faith thought for a few moments to recall any experiences. "Not fully. The bug has been going around the school and in families homes' so Carson and I have been having patients come into the infirmly and then we've done home check-ups for other patients. Although I bumped into Jesse on the way here and asked about Clara."

"How's she doing?"

"Fine. Probably has the bug since she's been unable to keep food down." Faith explained. "I'll go over tonight and check her myself. If it is the bug than I'll be gone in about twenty-four to forty-eight hours."

Fiona finished Bill's hair and placed her clippers down. "Is it normal for this one-day-bug to have an oncoming set of symptoms for prolong weeks?"

Faith made a face. "Fiona, have you been reading my medical books?" Fiona made a smirk face back. "No, its not usual. Maybe she had a small cold that turned into the bug. It's happened a few times in my experience."

That evening Jesse was sitting by Clara as she laid on her side staring out the window. On the tray next him he had tomato soup with rice and grilled cheese, extra crispy. Plus two glasses of water. He felt her forehead for the third time and she felt warm but nothing like having to call Carson or Faith. He brushed her hair back tenderly. "Please Clara," He was almost begging. "You need to eat a full meal. You can't just nibble on sandwiches."

Clara was unable to move though. Her entire being felt stuck in the middle of quicksand; gravity pulling her down to the center of the Earth, feeling a heaviness to the pulling. Unable to call out for help even though her internal insides screamed louder than the oil explosion. Her insides sobbed, but she had nothing in her that could release these tears of... Whatever. She couldn't explain it in the words... How could she?

Jesse stayed awake with her for two hours more before going to bed himself. He kissed her temple, told her he loved her, then laid next to her and slowly felt his eyes drift asleep.

In the middle of the night Clara somehow got up to go to the bathroom, even though every inch of her wanted to go back into the bed and sleep for hours upon hours.

But... She persisted. She came back into the room, took out her diary from her desk and went down into the kitchen where she used the lit candle to write...Surprised that it's been a week since her last one.

Dear diary,

I don't even feel like writing in you tonight. Or this morning. I don't even know the time at this moment. But I had this need to write in you right now.

I can't talk to Jesse. I can't even talk to Bill. Nor Fiona. Nor Faith. Not even Rosemary or Elizabeth. I don't even dare tell any of the other women in town because...

I think they will think I am insane.

Diary, I believe I am insane. I just do not have energy in me to do a single thing. I just wish to sit in bed and sleep, all day and every day. I can't even find an ounce in me to eat my favorite meals that Jesse had made for me in the past.

What is wrong with me?