Chapter 2

The ventilator hissed and puffed continuously. Its sound echoed in my ears. It was so clear and so unbearably loud.

I pulled with all my strength and unplugged it.

The world finally became completely silent.

Mom, Dad, now you can have some peace and quiet.

When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in the air. My body felt weightless, and my chest no longer felt tight. That familiar feeling of suffocation had completely disappeared.

Curiously, I looked at my hands. They were translucent.

I floated over to Dad. He was sitting on the couch, smoking one cigarette after another. Through the swirling smoke, I couldn't see his expression clearly.

I remembered that Dad didn't smoke. He always said cigarette smoke was bad for my lungs.

When had he started?

I racked my brain and recalled it was about the time after the doctor issued the third critical condition notice. He had hidden it from me as he cried like a child in the hospital stairwell.

I couldn't help but sigh at the sight of Dad's hair that had turned even whiter.

Because of my illness, he worked at the factory during the day and drove for a rideshare service at night. On top of those jobs, he delivered food on weekends.

He always said, "You are Daddy's precious little baby, Addie. I don't mind a little hardship."

Dad, I'm sorry. I'm not your baby—I'm your burden.

I reached out, wanting to smooth the deep frown between his brows. But my fingers passed right through him.

Like an adult, I let out a long sigh and thought, "Forget it. Dad's already so tired. I shouldn't trouble him anymore."

I wondered how Mom and Jasper were doing at Granny's house. Was Jasper refusing to drink milk again?

As those thoughts drifted through my mind, my consciousness gradually became blurry.

Maybe I should sleep. Mom always said that after a good sleep, I'd feel better.

"Good night, Dad."

As for Mom and Jasper, they probably didn't want to hear me say good night.

The next time I woke up, it was because of the sound of the door opening. Mom and Dad were back.

Excitedly, I floated over to them, wanting to give them a big hug.

"Dad, Mom, look! I can fly now! My body doesn't hurt at all anymore. Can you take me out to play from now on?"

I blinked and showed them the adorable expression that they could never resist. However, they walked straight through me as if they couldn't see me at all.

Mom carefully placed Jasper back into his crib. A tired but gentle smile rested on her face.

She cooed, "Were you a good boy today, Jas? Did you miss Mommy?"

Aunt Emma followed behind her, carrying a bucket of fried chicken. "Keira, I brought a late-night snack for you and Wesley. Eat it while it's hot."

The aroma of fried chicken instantly filled the living room.

Was she referring to that golden, delicious-smelling thing?

I yearned to eat it so much that I almost started drooling. I'd only ever seen it on TV.

How naughty of Mom to eat something so delicious behind my back!

Mom accepted the fried chicken but didn't eat it. She simply set it aside.

She said, "You really shouldn't have. If Addie smells it, he'll start making a fuss again."

Aunt Emma scowled slightly. Her voice wasn't loud, but it was just loud enough for me to hear.

She responded, "He's a patient who can only drink liquids anyway. What's wrong with letting him smell it? You're too considerate of him. Keira, I know this sounds harsh, but Addie is a bottomless pit. You can't sacrifice Jas because of him.

"Look at Jas. He's healthy and adorable. That's what a normal child is supposed to be like."

Understanding what Aunt Emma meant, I felt tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

How could Mom let someone talk about me like that? She had once said that having just one son was enough for her in this lifetime.

Before Jasper was born, she and Dad had held my hands and promised me that even after I had a little brother, I would still be the most important person in their hearts.

And now?

It hadn't even been that long, and the adults had already changed their minds.

Bad Mom! Bad Aunt Emma!

I swore it would take at least three chicken drumsticks to make me forgive them!

So, I held up three fingers and waved them in front of Mom. Yet, she didn't even look at me.

Dad sighed and reached right through my hand to pick up the bucket of fried chicken.

He sighed tiredly and said, "Enough. Stop criticizing Addie. He doesn't feel good about this either."

He walked over to my bedroom door and knocked on it.