She was sitting up in the bed shivering from head to toe. "W-w-who's there?" the child wimpered again, clearly frightened.
"It's all right, honey," the Professor said consolingly as he sat down beside her, "Though, I don't suppose you remember-"
"Professor!" Lizzie was in his arms before he could finish.
"Or, maybe you do." The dull pang of nasalgia brought tears to his eyes as he held her, but he tried to focus on the current situation. There were so many things he needed to know; what happened? Where were Anne and Scott? Were they all right? And just who was that man who had brought her here, anyway? But before he could ask, he noticed Lizzie was shivering. "You don't have to be scared, Lizz, I won't let anything happen to you."
"I'm cold," she explained with a slight cough.
"You don't sound well at all," the Professor laid a hand gently on her forehead, "and you're burning up! I'd better let you rest."
He didn't meet protest as he tucked her back into bed, and she was asleep again before he closed the door.
"Poor thing." The Professor shook his head and finally withdrew the note from his pocket. The news, he knew, couldn't be good, and for a moment, he considered waiting until morning.
Reduculous, he decided, and opened the note.