Chapter 4
Four days later, I slowly opened my eyes.
My limbs felt like they were pinned down to the bed, completely numb. My eyes were the only things I could move, and even then, just barely.
All I could see was the white ceiling.
"You're awake," the nurse said.
She leaned in closer and smiled.
I nodded slightly.
"Do you want some water? I'll feed you," she offered.
"Thank you..." I whispered, my voice barely audible.
She turned, poured some water into a cup, put a straw in, and brought it to my lips.
I tried to drink, but it felt like my whole body was being ripped apart by pain.
"Don't push yourself. Just sip slowly," she said.
I took a couple of small sips.
Then, the nurse took the cup away.
"My sister... How is she?" I asked weakly.
"You mean Emily Shaw? She woke up yesterday and was moved out of the ICU," the nurse replied.
That was good to hear.
I nodded gently, feeling rather relieved.
"So..." The nurse seemed hesitant, her words trailing off.
I slowly turned to look at her.
She gathered her courage and tried again.
"You two are... sisters? For real?" she asked.
I looked down.
"And that handsome guy... Is he your husband? Or your sister's husband?"
The nurse looked a little nosy, but there was also a trace of pity in her eyes.
I could guess what she meant.
These past few days, both Emily and I had been hospitalized.
Without anyone telling me, I already imagined what had happened.
But I didn't answer her. I just felt too exhausted to deal with it.
Then, I shut my eyes, falling into a deep slumber.
Two days passed.
I was finally out of the ICU.
Still, there was no private room for me.
Therefore, I put in a request for a caregiver.
I needed someone to pick up my meds and run errands for me.
Most of the time, I was drifting in and out of sleep.
I just felt completely drained.
It had been several days since the surgery, and I'd been recovering.
If nothing went wrong, I was supposed to look better.
But no matter how much I slept, I just couldn't shake off this grogginess.
I was so weak that I didn't even have the strength to go home.
But I didn't want to waste my time in the hospital.
All I could do was pray I'd get my strength back soon so I could finally leave.
Later on, my mom came to visit.
She brought me some soup she had made.
The caregiver was just setting up a small table for me, getting ready to serve my meal.
My mom entered and asked the caregiver to leave.
She kept her head down as she opened the thermos she'd brought, pouring out a bowl of fish soup.
"Don't eat that. The food here has got no nutrition. Have some soup instead," she said.
Her head was still lowered—she never once looked at me.
But in that moment, I could feel it: it wasn't that she didn't want to look at me. She just couldn't bear to.
I was so skinny now, practically skin and bones.
My chin was so sharp that it looked like it could cut glass.
I reached out, trying to scoop up some soup.
But my hand was covered in needle marks, puffy and swollen, and it trembled as I tried to move.
My mom gently took over the spoon and held the bowl up for me.
She scooped up a spoonful and brought it to my lips.
"Here," she said softly.
I froze for a second.
Then, I parted my lips and sipped the soup from the spoon, one spoonful after another.
She never got tired of it, just kept feeding me.
That afternoon, I was enveloped by warmth.
Later, my mom lowered her head and closed the soup container.
She sat with me for a bit longer.
"Do you want anything else to eat?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I'm already full."
She nodded, saying nothing else.
Then, she sat there for a little while longer.
I noticed a few strands of gray hair at her temples.
She must've gotten those from all those sleepless nights at the hospital.
"I'm heading back now. I'll come see you again next time," she said.
I nodded quietly.
But as she walked around my bed, I couldn't help but feel a little worried.
"Mom, is Emily feeling better now?" I asked.
She nodded. "She's recovering really well. She's already been discharged..."
But then she seemed to realize she'd slipped her tongue and paused.
I was stunned for a moment.
Emily had already been discharged.
My mom looked awkward, but I just smiled.
"I'm glad to hear that," I said.
She nodded and left, farther and farther from my room.
But suddenly, anxiety welled up inside me. I wanted to see her one more time, so I braced myself, pushed off the bed, and slowly made my way out of the room.
I stared at her back as she walked away, her figure growing smaller in the distance.
Would you come see me again? Probably not.
That was fine though.
She didn't need to come because I was about to be discharged, too.
Her figure finally disappeared from view.
The next second, my tears slid down my cheeks.
It was just like when I was a kid. Back then, I'd been left behind at the amusement park.
I watched my mother figure grow smaller and smaller, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never catch up.
No one knew that I went missing when I was three, and I didn't make it back to my family until I was thirteen.
Worse, no one knew the suffering, cruelty, and lies I had faced during those ten years.
But even after I finally made it back home, nothing really changed.
Still, nobody liked me.
They said my eyes were full of greed and selfishness.
They said I was nothing but trouble.
Honestly, hearing all that didn't really get to me.
What hurt the most was something else.
Later, I finally knew for sure that I wasn't just lost.
Back then... My mother abandoned me on purpose.