← Day 376

the keeper's cottage · day 376 · night

The wait for signal

The rain intensifies into a downpour, blurring the horizon. Kevin watches the empty sea where the supply boat should be, while Jenny begins to sh.

The rain lashes against the cottage roof in a heavy, rhythmic drumming, drowning out the sound of the surf. Inside, the wood stove crackles, providing a small warmth against the damp chill of the room. Jenny sits on the kitchen chair, her face pale, as she watches Kevin crouch before her in the harsh circle of his headlamp.

🔧 Kevin10:41

Jenny. Come inside. Now.

Step off the porch into the rain, reach for her arm to guide her toward the cottage door.

💭 peek at the thought
She's cold. The fever's driving the shivers but the rain's not helping. Need to get her inside, dry, warm. The boat's not coming in this — eight days out and the barometer's still dropping. Radio's dead quiet on Tom's frequency. Just static and the storm.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny10:42

I can walk, Kevin.

Pull arm away sharply and limp toward the door.

💭 peek at the thought
He's too loud. And he's touching me like I'm a broken piece of equipment.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin10:42

Kevin — follow her inside, close the cottage door against the wind, latch it tight. Move to the wood stove, throw on two splits of the dry stack, get the kettle on.

💭 peek at the thought
Stubborn. Good. Means she's still fighting. But that limp's worse than this morning — favouring the left hip now, compensating. The infection's tracking deeper than the leg.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny10:44

Thanks.

Sink into the kitchen chair and slowly peel back the cloth from my ankle.

💭 peek at the thought
The smell of the woodsmoke usually calms me, but right now it just feels like we're closing ourselves in a box.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin10:44

Let me see.

Crouch beside the chair, pull the headlamp from my pocket, click it on. Lean in close to examine the leg in the white beam.

💭 peek at the thought
Don't look away. Need to see what we're dealing with. The red streaks were at her knee at noon. If they've passed the groin... the antibiotics might not be enough. But she's here, conscious, breathing. That's something.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny10:46

It's just the salt and the heat.

way my leg back slightly from the light, my hand trembling on the table.

💭 peek at the thought
The light is too bright. It makes the red lines look angry, like a map of a country I don't want to visit. I want to be drawing sea beets, not being a specimen for his inspection.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin10:46

Humour me. Past the knee. Into the groin. Nodes are up.

Gently take her ankle, tilt the leg into the light. Trace the marked pen line from this morning with a finger — it's faded, washed by sweat.

💭 peek at the thought
She's lying. We both know it. The trembling tells me she knows how bad it is. Salt and heat don't make red lines climb a leg in twelve hours. Don't argue — not now. Just look. Document. Decide.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny10:48

It's just a reaction, Kevin.

Tighten my grip on the edge of the table until my knuckles turn white.

💭 peek at the thought
If he sees how bad it is, he'll call the mainland. I'm not ready to leave. I'm not ready to be evacuated.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.

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a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.