Chapter 5
That night, I came down with a fever.
At first, when the helper told him I'd been lying in bed all evening, my father just scoffed, "She's always been good at pretending. Let her act all she wants."
Still, he made sure a bowl of soup was waiting for me at the dining table.
Later that night, when the helper noticed the soup was untouched, she went upstairs to check on me, only to find me burning with fever, my body already trembling in convulsions.
An ambulance was called. Sirens sliced through the quiet night as I was rushed to the emergency room.
My father and Mira came along too.
I couldn't see. Everything was dark, and I couldn't move even when I wanted to.
Slipping in and out of consciousness, I vaguely heard my father's trembling voice, "Summer, wake up. Please don't scare me like this. I only hit you because I was too disappointed today. You have to know that Daddy loves you the most."
Even through the fog of a burning fever, confusion stirred in my mind.
Really? Was that what love was supposed to feel like?
As if sensing my doubt, he tightened his grip around my hand. "It's true, Summer. It's true," he said, voice cracking. "Who wouldn't love their own child?"
My eyes burned, and a tear escaped, soaking into my hair as I stayed perfectly still.
"You're Daddy's only child," he whispered through his sobs. "You're the most important person to me."
I wanted to move, to lift a hand and wipe the tears from his face.
I wanted to tell him not to hit me anymore. I could endure pain, but the heartache was unbearable.
I wanted to say he was all I had left. He could scold me, hate me, but please don't stop loving me.
Before I could open my eyes, Mira's voice cut through the quiet. "Is Mommy angry because Summer hit me today?" she asked.
She continued, "Maybe we should say some prayers. If we apologize for Summer, maybe Mommy won't be angry anymore. Maybe Summer will wake up."
My breath caught. I waited with dread for my father's response.
He didn't speak right away, but his shaky breathing was louder than words.
Then, in a voice so low and hoarse I barely recognized it, he said, "Monica, once Summer wakes up, I'll take her to your grave. I'll have her kneel and bow. I'll make her apologize to Mira. From now on, she'll give Mira whatever she wants. She won't fight her ever again."
His voice cracked. "Please don't be angry with Summer anymore. Even if she's disappointing, she's still my daughter."
Hearing how he described me, another tear slipped from the corner of my eye.
How could I have forgotten? I'm a sinner.
My hand dropped limply onto the sheets as darkness returned, swallowing me whole. The silence came next, and I welcomed it.
The surroundings were dark and quiet.
But strangely, I felt at peace.
Curled up on the floor of that dreamless world, I thought maybe I could finally sleep for the first time in years.
Just as my eyes began to close, a soft and sorrowful cry pierced the silence.
The sound was so heart-wrenching that it stopped me from falling asleep.
I opened my eyes and scanned the darkness for its source, and what I saw stunned me.
My mother stood not far away, tears streaming down her face.
Her eyes were filled with sadness, and for the first time in years, I didn't feel so alone in my pain.
All these years, I'd held it all in, swallowing the hurt until it felt normal.
But the moment I saw my mother, I broke down.
After years of holding everything in, I sobbed until my chest ached.
I wanted her so badly to know how much I missed her, but I never dared say it.
Because my father said it was my fault she died. That I had no right to miss her.
My mother looked at me with endless love as she wept. She then reached out with cold hands, took mine, and gently pulled me toward a distant, glowing light.
Still crying, I asked, "Mom, don't you hate me? I'm a sinner, aren't I?"
She sobbed too hard to speak, but shook her head firmly.
With one last loving, tearful glance, she gently pushed me toward the light.
Suddenly, I was pulled back from the darkness, and the harsh hospital ceiling lights came into view.