3、
The fright brought on a high fever that same night.
There was nothing else I could do. My hands were shaking as I dialed Ned's number.
The busy tone dragged on and on before the line finally connected.
"Ned, Grandma, she—"
I hadn't even finished before his tired voice cut me off.
"Let me guess. Grandma's sick again, and you need me to come to you."
"Odette, this trick's getting old."
The rest of the words stuck in my throat and wouldn't come out.
Ned kept going.
"Zoey's almost done with her bath. Lately she can't fall asleep without me telling her a bedtime story."
"Show a little kindness to a dying woman. Don't pick a moment like this to throw a jealous fit."
I lowered my head, and scalding tears dropped one by one onto the back of my hand.
I remembered my first time at the fight club, when I got beaten half to death.
By the time they dragged me off the platform, my face was swollen out of shape.
I was huddled in a corner when a white handkerchief suddenly appeared in front of me.
Ned stood over me with the light behind him, his voice unbelievably gentle.
"Wipe your face."
After that, he tended my wounds, went with me to visit Grandma, taught me how to use my own build, the cleverest angle for the most perfect force.
The first time I won, he pressed my head into his chest in front of everyone, his warm breath against my ear.
"From now on, you can lean on me."
I actually believed him.
Looking back now, how stupid I was.
Grandma lay in bed, the breath leaving her hotter and hotter.
I wiped my tears, went out, dragged the family cart from the yard, and laid a mat over it.
Then I gritted my teeth, went back inside, and lifted Grandma onto my back.
The wound on my chest hurt worse and worse. I bit it down and made no sound, edging step by step to the cart, easing Grandma flat.
The snow lay deep along the road.
I sank in with every other step.
By the time I stood at the hospital doors, I couldn't feel my body anymore.
The doctors inside came rushing out.
Then the familiar operating room light came on.
I leaned against the wall, eyes fixed on the door, not blinking once.
The snow on my shoulders had long melted into water, soaking through clothes that were already too thin.
Thank God the doctor's words gave me something to hold on to.
"The patient's condition is stable for now, but the follow-up treatment has to keep pace."
Something unsettled stirred in me.
"How much longer will the follow-up treatment cost?"
"A hundred thousand, roughly."
I let out a breath.
These past two years I'd barely stopped, one fight after another.
What I'd saved was just about enough to cover what came next.
When I walked into the ward, Grandma was already awake.
"Odette, I've gone and made trouble for you again."
I shook my head, the tears falling without stop.
I took out the bank card and tucked it under Grandma's pillow.
"Grandma, when you get your treatment, pay with this card."
"While I'm gone, you have to take good care of yourself."
The next day, picking up her medicine, I ran into Zoey.
"Odette, what a coincidence."
"I just had a bit of a headache last night, and Ned insisted I come in for a checkup today."
I twitched the corner of my mouth. I didn't want to get tangled up with her.
But when I stepped through the door, I saw the person who should have been in bed lying on the floor instead.
"Grandma!"
