He snuggled and sang until it was clear Nyx's wish was granted. He was out, the drugs obliterating the fear and worry of the diagnosis.

He got up, leaving Nyx to sleep it off in Willy's bed. He went to the kitchen to get food, tossed in laundry, watched telly. He knew Nyx would be out for a while.

He watched Nyx's screen come to life with a call. Hex. The ringing stopped, and shortly a voicemail chimed. Then a text.

Willy knew Nyx wouldn't be able to keep it secret. It was going to be tabloid fodder.