168 — A Fever Dream

Silence.

"Mom?"

No reply came through, however. Nothing. Not even the rustle of sheets or footsteps.

I frowned, twisting the doorknob. It turned easily, obviously unlocked. I pushed the door open slowly, peering into the dim room.

"Mom, are you—" I froze in the doorway. "—asleep?"

The curtains were drawn tight. I didn't even think the lights were on. I waited for a few long heartbeats in case she made a noise, but there was still nothing. I took a tentative step forward, my eyes landing on the humped shape beneath the mountain of blankets.

Her mess of brown hair fanned across the pillow like some sort of wild, disheveled creature. Even then, she didn't seem to react to my presence.

I tilted my head. Something was wrong. I crept forward quietly. I sat down on the edge of her bed, careful, the mattress dipping with an indecently loud creak. Almost immediately, I could feel the heat radiating off the covered mound like a furnace.

Eun Ha let out a long breath and turned her face slightly in her sleep, strands of hair clinging to her clammy forehead.

Up close now, I could see the flush in her cheeks—a fever-reddened splotch against skin that usually held a healthier Korean porcelain hue. Her eyelids fluttered.

I leaned closer, reaching out slowly to pull back the blanket covering her, watching how her pale fingers seemed to curl reflexively into the bedsheets as if protecting what little warmth she found there. She was shivering. Her skin looked damp, like her hairline, with an unnatural shimmer of sweat.

I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead, and then her cheek.

She was burning up.

"Mom...?" I called out softly. "You..."

Her lashes fluttered and peeled open slowly, and those beautiful, familiar purple orbs seemed hazy, clouded with fever and confusion. The moment her eyes landed on me, a sliver of sobriety rushed into her expression. "Jae-il...? What... what are you doing... here?"

"I think you have a fever, Mom." I said, as gently as I could manage, pushing the damp strands away from her forehead. "You're really hot."

"Fever?" Her brows furrowed as if this were a foreign concept. "Don't be silly... just tired..." She tried to push herself up, but her arms gave out almost immediately, and she sank back into the pillows with a soft groan, her eyes fluttering shut. "Just tired..."

"Mom, you need to stay put. And drink something." I stood up, making an almost comical rush for the bathroom. I rummaged through her cabinet, my fingers closing around a box of cold medicine. I found a clean washcloth and wet it with cool water.

When I returned, her eyes were open again, watching me with a drowsy, unfocused intensity. I sat on the bed again, the washcloth in my hand.

"Here." I leaned in, gently dabbing at her forehead and cheeks with the cool, damp cloth. Her skin was so hot it felt like it was sizzling the moisture away. Seriously, what the hell was going on? Where did this come from so suddenly? She had looked so fine, if not a little bit off, earlier today, but this...?

Eun Ha flinched at the contact, then let out a soft sigh of relief, her body seeming to melt a little into the mattress. Her gaze didn't leave my face. "You shouldn't... you shouldn't be in here... Jae-il..."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're sick." I dipped the cloth in the small bowl of water I'd brought, wrung it out, and wiped her neck.

Her hand, surprisingly strong for someone so feverish, shot out and grabbed my wrist. Her fingers were like brands. "No... go away..." Her purple eyes were wide now, a flicker of something—fear?—cutting through the feverish haze. "It's... not proper."

I stared at her, at the genuine panic in her eyes, and then down at her fingers locked around my wrist. I frowned. Not proper? What in the nine circles of hell was she blabbering about?

"Mom." I said, my voice taking an uncharacteristic fatherly tone. "You're burning up. You need medicine. And you need to drink some water. I'm not going anywhere."

A shudder ran through her. Her grip slackened, and she let her arm fall back onto the bed, defeated. She closed her eyes again. "Your sisters... where...?"

"Downstairs. Making dinner. Or trying to kill each other with kitchen utensils, it's a toss-up." I said, trying for a light tone that didn't quite land. I opened one of the drawers and pulled out a thermometer. "Open up."

She complied weakly, her lips parting. I slipped the thermometer under her tongue. While we waited, I stared at her face, at the lines of strain etched around her mouth and eyes.

"......"

The thermometer beeped. I pulled it out. 38.9°C. High, but not 'rush to the emergency room' territory. Yet. "Yep, you're officially sick." I said, holding the small screen for her to see, though her eyes were still closed.

"I'll... be fine..." She slurred.

I shook my head, popping a pill out of its box and handed it to her, along with a glass of water. I helped her sit up, supporting her back against the headboard.

Eun Ha barely had enough strength to raise her hands to her lips. She took the pill, her throat working as she swallowed it with a sip of water. She proceeded to drink some more, then she sank back against the pillows with a weary sigh, her breaths coming in shallow pants. "Sorry..."

"Nothing to be sorry for." I adjusted the blanket around her shoulders. "Just rest. I'll tell Mia and Su Ah Noona to bring you a tray." Better yet, I'll bring her one myself, trusting neither of them not to make the situation worse.

Not that I wouldn't trust them under normal circumstances—but this particular circumstance was far from normal.

She didn't answer, her eyes already closed, her breathing evening out into the slow, heavy rhythm of a body fighting off infection.

I stayed for a moment longer, watching her. The feverish flush on her cheeks, the faint tremor in her limbs, the delicate, vulnerable way she looked tucked into her bed.

"You're a good boy, Jae-il." She whispered, all of a sudden. "My... my good boy."

Her words, for some reason, didn't make me feel good. At all. They felt both like an absolution and a heavier accusation than any she could have made while lucid. Ah, because I knew that she knew. And I feared it was exactly that which was making her sick.

"Am I, really?"

"......"

I glanced at Eun Ha. Her breathing had evened out, and she was now sleeping a little more at ease. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, then pushed myself to my feet.

After I ensured she was covered properly, I quietly left.

The moment I walked back into the kitchen, I had two pairs of eyes on me. They were standing on opposite sides of the island, somehow still alive despite the earlier tension, both holding a kitchen implement as if it were a weapon. Mia with a spatula. Su Ah with a ladle. I could almost hear a dramatic western whistle play in my head.

The atmosphere went instantly still.

"She's sick." I announced, my voice flat. "She has a fever."

Both of them visibly deflated. Mia's shoulders slumped. Su Ah set the ladle down with a soft clink against the countertop, her earlier defensiveness evaporating.

"How sick?" Su Ah asked, her voice suddenly quiet.

"Bad enough. Burning up. I gave her some cold medicine. She's asleep now."

"I'll go see her." Mia said, already moving past me toward the stairs.

"Wait." I held up a hand, stopping her. "Let her rest. The last thing she needs is the two of us hovering over her. She needs quiet and sleep. I'll take a tray up later."

Mia stopped, her back to me. I could see the tension in her posture, the way her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"......"

"I know what you're thinking." I said, softer this time. "But it's not your fault."

If anything, it was everyone's fault. This kind of secret couldn't possibly last forever. Eun Ha was bound to find out, eventually. Right now, we just had to see how much she actually suspected—knew—and run damage control.

"Isn't it?" Mia turned, her amber eyes glistening as she ran a hand through her hair, mussing it all up without a care. "All this stress... with Dad, and then... everything that's happening..." She gestured vaguely between the three of us. Su Ah sighed. "We're practically... killing her."

"... Don't say that, Unnie." Su Ah murmured, in a surprising moment of solidarity. "It'll... pass. It'll pass."

I really hoped so...

"For now, let's just focus on making her better." I walked forward. "Let's put some aside for when she wakes up."

After a few nods and huffs and shrugs, a small rickety group of semi-willing comrades came together to get a bowl ready for our ailing mother. I'd heat it up later.

As we sat quietly at the table, eating the well-made stew with vegetables and noodles, no one had the appetite for a long chat.

"It's delicious."

Still, I complimented the food, at least managing to draw twin smiles from both of my sisters.

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