Chapter 334

I didn't know how long I'd been walking, but my feet were numb. Many times, I wanted to call Reynaldo and ask him to pick me up. But I knew he wouldn't come as long as Kimberly was there. Even if I froze to death, he wouldn't come. He'd only mock me, saying I took too long to buy painkillers, or interrogate me about fooling around. So why bother calling him, disturbing him and Kimberly, and inviting his sarcasm and humiliation?

I looked up at the pitch-black sky. Tiny snowflakes still fell. That night felt like a century, but I finally reached the hotel. The hotel's warmth made me shiver violently, and I felt dizzy. The receptionist was asleep. I staggered silently toward the elevator. Arriving at my door, I shivered, searching for my room key in my down jacket pocket. My hands were frozen; I couldn't even hold the key. The room card fell several times. Finally, I clenched it with both hands and tremblingly opened the door. With a creak, it opened. I walked in and leaned against the door.

No sooner had I caught my breath than I saw a man sitting on the sofa. A touch of irony surged in my heart. He wasn't even in Kimberly's room, which was unusual. I closed my eyes, then forced myself toward the bedroom. A hot bath and sleep—that's all I needed to feel comfortable.

Tonight's experience was a nightmare; a good night's sleep would fix it. Yes, sleep would end everything. I felt very cold, shivering, yet my body burned as if I were about to catch fire. I was utterly uncomfortable, unable even to open my eyelids. I bit my lip and walked slowly, step by step.

2050

“Stop!”

Just as I reached the bedroom doorway, I heard a man's cold voice behind me. I stopped, without turning around. He approached, his voice cold and restrained with anger, sounding above my head. "Where did you run off to and cause trouble?" he demanded. "And what about the medicine I asked you to buy?"

I stiffly tugged at my lips, feeling a wave of bitterness and self-mockery. It took me so long to return, and he suspected I was fooling around. He never worried about my safety. If I'd died at Matthew's place, he probably wouldn't have even known, because he doesn't care. My eye sockets were dry and gritty; tears wouldn't flow. I licked my chapped lips, trying to say the medicine was lost, but no sound came out. I lacked the strength to speak. My head felt heavy; all I wanted was to sleep.

The man behind me was relentless, questioning me one sentence at a time: “I ask you, where have you been hanging out?!”

2050

It was just a request for medicine. If I didn't want to get it, I could have just said so.