Chapter 4

The nurse came to usher visitors out. Parker packed up his things and, after planting a gentle kiss on his mother's forehead, finally left.

As soon as Parker stepped out of the ward, his shoulders slumped, as if all his previous composure had just been an act.

I followed Parker as he turned the corner in the hospital corridor. Suddenly, he stopped, pressed both hands against the wall, and let his head hang low.

At first, I thought Parker was just checking something. But then I heard a muffled sob and realized he was crying.

Parker was crying.

It wasn't a teenager's unrestrained wailing, but a grown man's desperate sob wrenched from the depths of his soul.

His entire body was shaking as he pressed his forehead against the cold hospital wall, silent tears streaming down and splashing onto the floor.

I froze in place, completely at a loss for what to do.

Just then, a piece of paper slipped out from his loosely fastened backpack.

I moved closer to look. It was a medical report covered in dense, incomprehensible terminology I couldn't make sense of. But the last line stood out sharply.

"The condition has progressed to terminal stage. Palliative care recommended."

My heart clenched as if an invisible hand was squeezing it tight.

In the original story, Parker's mother passed away that very winter, which became the catalyst for his complete descent into darkness.

And now, at just 17, Parker is left alone to shoulder this cruel reality.

Parker slowly slid down to sit on the floor, his back pressed against the wall, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling.

I noticed that Parker's face was unusually flushed, and his breathing was more rapid than normal.

After much hesitation, I cautiously padded toward him.

This time, Parker didn't shoo me away. In fact, it seemed like he didn't even notice my presence.

I gently brushed against Parker's calf and sensed a feverish heat coming off him.

He was running a fever.

"Go away..." Parker murmured weakly, lacking even the strength to push me aside.

I was frantic with worry, pacing in tight circles around him.

The hospital corridor stood deserted in the dead of night. Parker's consciousness was fading fast, his head bobbing weakly as he teetered on the edge of passing out.

My feline instincts kicked in, pushing me to attempt something drastic.

I leapt onto the nearby bench and, with all my might, knocked a small medicine bottle to the floor.

The small bottle hit the floor with a sharp clatter that echoed through the silent corridor.

Parker still hadn't woken up.

I jumped back down and clamped onto Parker's pant leg with my teeth, tugging hard. His eyes fluttered open dazedly, and he looked at me in confusion.

"Meow!" I yowled desperately, springing onto the bench once more and sending the nurse's call bell clattering to the floor.

At last, someone showed up.

A bleary-eyed nurse rounded the corner. The moment she spotted Parker slumped on the floor, she rushed over without hesitation.

"Young man? Can you hear me?" the nurse said.

Parker was already semi-conscious, mumbling incoherently. The nurse pressed a hand to his forehead and gasped, "Good heavens, such a high fever!"

She quickly summoned medical staff to wheel Parker into the ER.

I was locked outside the ER doors, frantically pawing at them in distress.

When a young doctor opened the door, I slipped inside and hid in a corner, watching as they hooked Parker up to an IV and applied cold compresses.

"Malnutrition, overexertion, and an acute flu." The doctor frowned at the chart. "Which school does this young man go to? Where are his parents?"

"He's alone," the nurse replied. "His mother's in Room 307, a terminal cancer patient."

The doctor let out a sigh. "We should notify his school. He needs rest, but... our beds are all occupied at the moment."

Curled up in the shadowy hospital corner, I watched over the unconscious Parker.

Stripped of his usual cold detachment, Parker looked heartbreakingly young and vulnerable.

The IV fluid dripped steadily from the tube, each drop counting down the dwindling time his mother had left.

By dawn, Parker's fever had broken.

Parker's eyes fluttered open as he looked around, confused and disoriented. Then, as if suddenly remembering something urgent, he bolted upright in bed.

Parker blurted out, "Mom."

"Your mom's fine, still sleeping," the nurse said, gently holding him back. "But your fever spiked to 104°F. Any later and it could've been dangerous."

Parker pressed his lips into a thin line and, without a word, reached to yank out the IV.

"Stay still!" the nurse commanded sternly. "At least finish this IV bag. Your teacher is already on the way to pick you up."

Parker stubbornly shook his head. "I have to check on my mom, then go to my part-time job..."

"What? A part-time job? In your condition?" The nurse stared at him in disbelief. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Parker lowered his gaze, his long lashes casting faint shadows across his face.

Just then, he noticed me in the corner.

Parker frowned, his voice hoarse and uncertain. "Was that cat... here the whole time?"

The nurse turned to me in surprise. "Huh? How did this little guy get in here? It was its noise last night that led us to you."

Parker stared at me, complex emotions flickering in his eyes.

After the nurse left to attend to other patients, Parker lightly patted the edge of the hospital bed, inviting the cat over.

I hesitated for a moment, then padded over and hopped up onto the hospital bed.

Parker's hand hovered midair, torn between wanting to pet me and holding back. Sensing his hesitation, I took the initiative and nuzzled my head against his fingers.

"Thank you," Parker murmured, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

That was the first time I'd ever heard Parker say "thank you" to me.