Dana closed the door behind her with a heavy, pleasantness, as if she were carrying a whole burden on her shoulders. The apartment was dark, only the entrance lamp cast a pale light on the walls. She took her bag off her shoulder, placed it on the carpet in the entrance, and leaned against the door for a few moments. Her head was pounding, her face was a little flushed, and her body was so tired that it didn’t feel like it belonged to her.

She walked down the narrow hallway, caressing the wall to keep from falling. The cold kitchen greeted her with the smell of morning coffee, and a little bit of garlic from the cellar that still hung in the air. She opened the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of cold water, and swallowed with a full throat. The cold of the water hit her deep in the chest, and she sighed with a slight relief – but she still didn’t feel normal. Something in her body was a little wrong. Not a big pain, not a clear dizziness – but her temperature felt elevated. She felt it in her face, in her palms, and in that slight burning sensation that had been with her since noon.

She closed the bathroom door, turned on the bright white light, and stood in front of the mirror. Her face was a little flushed, her eyes a little teary, and she was breathing heavily. She held her forehead, feeling the heat radiating from her skin, then picked up the digital laser device that was on the shelf. She pressed the button – 37.9. Not bad, but not normal. She didn’t live with a fever like that without checking what was going on inside. Still, something about her felt too basic to run to the family doctor right now. She wanted to know why she was sacrificing herself tonight. If it was just a mild virus, she could sleep. If it was something more – she would have evidence.

She opened the dresser drawer, took out the Wittering box: a new rectal thermometer, still wrapped in a sealed bag. She had bought it a few months ago, when she decided she couldn't bear to mess with unreliable thermometers. She didn't like the idea, but she knew it was the most accurate. And now, when she could already feel her body warming up, she didn't want to leave anything to chance.

She closed the bathroom door, took off the tight pants she was still wearing from work, then her thin black panties. She sat on the edge of the toilet, opened the thermometer bag, and took out the device: a smooth, silver rod, its tip rounded and slightly threaded with clear plastic. She took out a small roll of Vaseline, turned the device in her hand, and applied a thin layer to the tip. She felt the cold of the metal touch her skin, and her body tingled a little. She still didn’t like this process. It always felt so exposed, so intimate—even when she was alone.

She sat down on the towel in front of the mirror, raised her legs a little, and leaned forward. She took a deep breath, feeling her heart beat a little harder. She positioned the device between her thighs, and began to slowly lower it. The cold of the metal shocked her – she gasped, not from pain, but from the sudden sensation of something foreign and cold entering her. She felt her cheek muscles tighten, then her body get used to it. She pushed a little more – until the device was inside her, deep enough to be stable. She leaned back, legs slightly apart, and let herself breathe.

She pressed the button. She knew it would take time. She sat there, naked from the waist down, feeling the device inside her, radiating a stiff cold against her inner heat. She felt her heartbeat begin to slow, her muscles relax a little. She looked at herself in the mirror—face flushed, lips moist, eyes slightly focused. She felt herself in the most open, most exposed place—and yet, something about that meticulousness gave her a sense of control. She wasn’t just someone who suffered—she was someone who checked, who separated what was in her control from what was not.

The device beeped twice. She took it out slowly, feeling its coldness linger on her inner skin for a few moments. She looked at the screen – 38.2. Higher than she thought. She sighed, feeling the tension start to rise. It wasn’t just a virus. It was something more. And now she knew. She got up, washed the device in warm soapy water, and closed it back in the box. She looked in the mirror again – her face was still damp with a light sweat, and she could feel the heat radiating from her back.

She put her underwear back on, this time in a hurry, as if she wanted to cover herself up. She left the bathroom, went to bed, and curled up in the blanket. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do now—but she knew she had the data. She wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing what she was up against. And she also knew that tomorrow, she would have to take herself seriously. But tonight, she would just lie there, with her warmth, with her body, and with the feeling that something inside her was starting to awaken—not just warmth, but something