Chapter 194



Ever since my parents passed away, I never complained about the bitterness of medicine again. Without them, there was no more rock sugar to sweeten the deal for me. I hadn't tasted rock sugar since.

"It's really sweet," Ernest whispered, lifting a piece of rock sugar to my lips as if to tempt me.

Reluctantly, I opened my mouth, but as the sugar touched my tongue, tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over.

"Why are you crying now?" He cleaned my tears with his hands.

His words only made my heart heavier, my tears harder to stop.

Ernest couldn't keep up, eventually taking the glass from my hand and squeezing my hand gently, "If the medicine's too bitter, we'll skip it."

He walked away, and I buried my face in my palms...

After crying for a while, I felt much better. The thermometer tucked under my arm beeped, signaling it was done.

I checked it: 101.2°F. Definitely a fever.

Ernest reappeared, holding a towel, seemingly wrapping something inside.

first, then you should drink some warm water. If your temperature drops, we

forehead, his

as told, but soon I heard the flick of a lighter, followed by

my hand, a sudden heat that made me flinch. "I'm using alcohol to

knew this method; my dad had used it on

having to

my right. Just when

pulled away, refusing, "No

so brave, even

me down, and now

touching your

words caught me

just shutting down, tuning everything out. Yet, his words made it

the best option then, so I closed

my feet felt ticklish, a warmth that pierced straight

Ernest brought back

yet filling it with sadness, drawing tears down my

I made some porridge. Have some when you wake up," Ernest said, getting

his retreating figure, "Did you

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