Chapter 14

Maria, angered and humiliated, clenched her fists at her sides, trembling with outrage. She turned to leave, Mia following close behind. The subsequent events felt like a slap in the face.

Stepping out of the market, Grace witnessed a group of people smashing a car—apparently Maria's.

"What happened? Did she offend someone?" Grace asked. "Is this revenge?"

Jason's eyes glittered. "Who knows? Anyway, it's none of our business."

Taking Jason's arm, Grace started toward the bus stop. He stopped abruptly, his pallor alarming her.

"What's wrong?" Grace asked, worried. "Jay, are you okay?"

He stuttered, "N-nothing," shaking his head.

"You look like you saw a ghost," Grace observed.

His gaze darted to her. The woman who'd just disembarked the bus and disappeared into the market crowd… she looked too much like the woman who had deserted her husband and son. Surely, he was mistaken.

Later, preparing for bed, Grace didn't pry when Jason seemed troubled. He appreciated her discretion.

"Thank you for the phone," he said, forcing a smile.

Her own smile wavered, her worry evident. But he insisted he was fine.

As the lights dimmed, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He noted the exact moment Grace fell asleep—her breathing slowing and becoming regular.

Sleep eluded him. Jagged pieces of memory surfaced: his father, sitting him down in the library. "Jason," his father had said, "don't follow in my footsteps. Even if you fall for a woman, don't love her wholeheartedly."

On a later birthday, his father had warned, "The most unreliable thing in this world is love. When she no longer loves you, it will be useless even if you kneel before her."

Another memory: the living room. "Jason, one day, when you fall in love, you will realize that someone in this world has the power to control your emotions. She could make you live or die. However, if possible, I hope you will never experience that."

Jason blinked, disoriented. He recognized the mansion, but the wall color was different; there was a crib. A nursery?

Then, a woman's voice: "Stop saying these things to me. Don't stay here! It's cold… so cold… Don't stay here… or you will freeze to death!"

The dark-haired woman stormed out; he followed, desperate to stop her.

"Jason, I'm leaving. I don't want to hear your father telling me how much he loves me while unable to give me the life I want! I've already done my best."

A fragmented voice: "Who's that… talking to me now?"

Another voice: "Don't…go…"

His voice, begging her not to leave. If she went, his father would…

"Don't go! Don't go!" He struggled to catch her, but she was as elusive as the breeze.

Darkness enveloped him; he felt himself drowning, gasping for breath. He desperately grasped for something, anything—a straw!

Suddenly, he felt warmth, a gentle voice beside his ear: "Jay, Jay, I'm not leaving. Don't be afraid."

"This voice… Sister. Grace!"

Opening his eyes, he saw Grace's anxious face, her lips moving, assuring him.

He swallowed hard and nodded.

Grace sighed in relief. "Jay, what happened? Did you have a nightmare?"

Jason frowned. He hadn't had that dream in years.

"Yeah, a nightmare." He realized he was gripping her hand tightly.

Her earlier words about straws and lifesavers—silly then—now held unexpected meaning. Her presence brought him peace. In his dream, as he drowned, he'd grasped…her hand? It had saved him.

He released her hand, the warmth vanishing. A dull ache spread in his stomach. He curled onto his side.

Grace's concern returned. "Are you not feeling well?"

"It's nothing," he tried to suppress the pain. "Just… stomach cramps. I'll be fine."

"Is it from the nightmare?"

As a child, suppressing emotions caused severe stomach cramps. As an adult, this was new—a twisting, agonizing pain.

Grace poured a glass of warm water, helping him sit up. He managed a few sips.

She stood abruptly. "I'm going out for a while!" She covered him with a blanket before leaving, fearing the cold would worsen his pain.

The door clicked shut, her footsteps fading. He was alone. Relief at her absence mingled with sadness at her departure—like she, too, was abandoning him.

He closed his eyes, enduring the pain, the familiar loneliness. Since his father's death, he'd lived with the Reed family, surrounded by people yet profoundly alone.

The door opened. Grace gasped for breath. "Jay, I've bought medicine for you."

Her hair was disheveled, her face worried, her panting evident. Though he'd seen more beautiful women, at that moment, he couldn't look away. She was the only one.

She poured another glass of lukewarm water and gave him two tablets. He swallowed them.

"If you still feel terrible, close your eyes and try to sleep," Grace said. "If you're not better in a few hours, I'm taking you to the ER."

"It'll…pass," he said.

She wrung her hands, unconvinced.

"Come up onto the bed," she said, guiding him to lie down, resting his head on her pillow. It smelled of clean soap and citrus—summer. As she turned, he unconsciously grasped her hand.

"What is it? Should I call an ambulance?" Grace asked.

He looked at her, dazed. He hadn't wanted her to leave.

After a while, he whispered, "Just…stay with me."