Prologue

The private hospital room was nearly ablaze with tension as two siblings locked eyes in an intense, silent battle that had already raged for nearly half an hour. The younger sister's dark brown eyes held a mixture of disappointment and resentment, though overshadowed by fierce anger, while the elder brother's onyx eyes showed only fatigue with her childish antics.

“Are you going to resign on your own, or do I have to make it happen?”

The silence was abruptly shattered by the man’s stern words. He stood at the bedside, arms folded and gaze unblinking.

“No! You can't do this to me, P'Matt.”

The speaker’s hand clenched tightly around the IV needle inserted there, veins bulging on the back of her hand, and for a moment, it seemed the needle might fly out.

“I’m your brother, of course I have the right. Look at yourself—if you stay here, you’ll never get better.”

“How could you possibly know better than the doctor, or even better than me? I know my own body, whether I can handle this or not."

“And what exactly are your limits, hmm?” Boramat's gaze traveled over his sister’s arms and legs, both covered in scratches smeared with antiseptic ointment. Larger and deeper injuries were covered with gauze — at least five places from what he could see.

Even this cursory glance was enough for him to make up his mind—he was not going back to Bangkok without Mongkutmook accompanying him. The visible wounds were already alarming, not to mention her leg encased in a soft cast and her fractured left pinky finger in a hard splint.  It was fortunate his younger sister had been wearing a helmet when riding the motorbike; who knows what might have happened otherwise?

“I’ll be fine. I'll heal up soon enough,” the girl replied dismissively, turning her face away. “You can go back now. Whether it's Bangkok or anywhere else, go. The sooner the better.”

The young man suppressed a sigh, finding it hard to believe that this stubborn child before him was the same ‘sweet little sister’ he once knew.

“‘Soon enough,’ huh...? How soon, exactly? A few months? Sure, it’ll heal fast. People who fall off motorbikes don’t usually need IVs, yet you’ve been through several bags already.”

Mongkutmook gaped, unable to find a retort. How was she supposed to just lie in bed doing nothing? Final exams were next week, and she was far from prepared. She’d begged her friends to lug all her textbooks here so she could study, and she’d probably overdone it a bit, resulting in her current state of exhaustion and requiring bag after bag of saline.

… She didn’t even know how many bags of IV fluids she'd gone through at this point.

Her wavering eyes turned sharp again, and without thinking, she snapped in a blunt, fevered tone, her chapped lips burning from illness.

“Just leave me alone. It’s my life; I can do whatever I want.”

“I wouldn’t have to interfere if you weren’t my sister.”

“Oh, your sister? For years now, I haven’t even felt like I had a brother.”

“I think we’re done talking, Mook,” Boramat tried his utmost to remain calm.

“We’re never going to have a conversation that goes anywhere.”

The young woman clenched her fists tightly. People on the outside saw her as a pampered little rich girl, the youngest in the family, always doted on. But they had no idea that for almost four years now, everything had been far from perfect.

“Hmph, Dad and Mom divorced. Dad found a new wife. Mom just spends her time in her ridiculous social clubs, ignoring her kids. My sister’s a workaholic, and my brother is a control freak who treats everyone like his servants. Don't you know slavery was abolished ages ago?”

“Shut your mouth, Mongkutmook!” A deep voice echoed through the room, laden with frustration. Any hope of seeing the little sister he once knew was rapidly vanishing.

“Why? Can’t handle the truth? The truth remains true no matter how much you deny it.”

“Stop misunderstanding everything.”

“Misunderstanding? What’s the real story, then? Oh, I know—the truth is I’m just an unloved stray.”

“I said shut up and get ready to go home with me.”

“Why? What for? Mom, P’Mee, and you—none of you love me. Especially… Dad. Dad doesn’t love me anymore. Staying here is meaningless.”

Her calm, even voice cut deeply into Boramat’s heart. He and Paramee understood their parents’ reasons, but at the time, Mongkutmook had been too young to understand. She was also a deeply attached, doting youngest child. It was no surprise she couldn’t accept it when her parents separated.

His large feet, clad in black brogues, stepped closer to the hospital bed. His voice, low and restrained, carried the weight of suppressed emotions, while his gaze concealed an array of unspoken thoughts.

“How do you know Dad doesn’t love you?”

“If Dad loved me, he wouldn’t have married someone else. He’s so obsessed with that woman, that he’s forgotten all about me.” Her eyes shimmered with tears, but she refused to let them fall.

“Stop being so hostile toward Dad!” Boramat commanded sharply.

“You leave, P’Matt Go! I don’t want to hear another word,” Mongkutmook pressed her hands over her ears. Her father loved her? If he really loved her, he would never have broken her heart by marrying a woman barely older than her oldest sister.

Since another person in the room remained unmoved, the one on the bed glanced up and pressed her lips into a thin, straight line.

“Not leaving? Fine! If you won’t leave, then I will.”

No sooner had she spoken than her pale, frail hand—still weakened from illness—yanked out the IV needle. Blood mixed with saline spattered across her patient gown, the white bedsheets, and the polished floor. But Mongkutmook didn’t care. All she wanted was to escape the suffocating tension enveloping her. However, the moment she swung one foot off the bed, her entire body crumpled to the floor. She had completely forgotten that her leg was still encased in a cast.

“Ow!!!”

“What a foolish thing to do.”

There was no pity, no comfort, not even an offer to help her up. Boramat simply watched his defiant younger sister with an empty gaze.

“P'Matt…” Tears streamed down her face. For Mongkutmook, the physical pain was nothing compared to the heartbreak of her brother’s cold indifference.

“Let’s talk when you’re done acting like this.”

The tall figure turned slowly and walked to the door. Yet, before leaving, he delivered one last remark, the result of a torrent of emotions stirred by her earlier words.

“You can say whatever you like. Just don’t say that no one at home loves you.”

With that, Boramat exited the room, ignoring the sound of her sobbing behind him. He knew his sister better than anyone; Mongkutmook wouldn’t die over something like this. A bit of solitude might be exactly what she needed.

The young man closed the door behind him, but before he could reach the elevator, he found himself face-to-face with a nurse. His dark eyes fell on the small cup of pills on her stainless-steel tray, and he let out a soft sigh.

“Bringing her medicine?”

“Yes, her post-meal medication,” replied Patsasika, smiling even though his curt, brusque tone made it feel as though he had swallowed a whole hive of bees.

“Then I’ll leave it to you. It may be a bit of a challenge, seeing as she hasn’t even had her lunch yet.”

“Oh… she hasn’t eaten?” Had this patient, who’d just been transferred from the shared ward earlier that morning, already proven as difficult as her senior nurse had warned?

“You are…?”

“Oh, I’m Patsasika.”

“Miss Patsasika, then.”

The young man repeated, nodding as he tested her name. If she went inside, she would surely see Mongkutmook’s state, and she might not be too happy with him.

“Quite a name. Do you have a nickname?”

Who didn’t have a nickname?... thought the nurse with a hint of amusement.

“Sor,” the name’s owner replied courteously, starting to pick up on something in his demeanor. No one had ever mentioned her real name was difficult to pronounce before.

“If you go in, you might be in for a bit of a shock. I’m also sorry for the extra work you’ll have changing her clothes and bed sheets.”

The young woman was puzzled, confused by his remark. Before she could respond, the tall figure walked off, leaving her with one last comment.

“Oh, one more thing—you’ll probably have to reinsert my sister’s IV line, Miss Sor.”