“What? What are you sorry about?”Tell me you’re sorry you made a mistake!
“I really think you should come if you can. The doctor’s here, but Kenny’s been asking for you.”
My knees shake. I brace myself against the wall next to the elevator to stay upright. “Since when?”
“He was okay until last night, but this morning…”
“Was there an accident? Did he fall or something?”
“No. He complained about being lethargic, then…” Gi-Hoon sighs heavily. “I’m so sorry.”
The elevator finally dings and opens. I stumble into its maw, hit L and squeeze my eyes shut. Something sour and bitter pushes up from my belly to my throat, and I swallow, covering my mouth. I can’t believe this is happening. This justcan’t be happening to me.
As I fight the rush-hour traffic to reach the center, I curse at life. At the cars. At the fact that today’s Monday. And the fact that the universe is sofuckingunfair.
All I have is Grandpa. Why can’t I keep him? Why must it take him away from me, too?
“Fuck you!” I rage in the car at some force in the universe out to torment me. “Fuck you and your fucking injustice! Fuck you!”
Then abrupt fear slashes at me. What if the unseeable force is about to take pity on me, but hears me bitching?
“I’m sorry,” I say like a lunatic. “I didn’t mean it. Please.”
Don’t take him away,I pray fervently.I’ll do anything!
When I reach the center, I park my car and run to the lobby. Gi-Hoon stands when he sees me running in, grabs a fistful of Kleenex and gives them to me. Only then do I realize I’m crying.
“Thank you,” I say between panting breaths. I dab at my face. I don’t want to show up with teary eyes, looking like a mess. It’ll worry Grandpa. Stress isn’t good for him.
I check my reflection in the small mirrored wall in the lobby. My eyes are red, and my face is blotchy. I blow my nose and put on some powder, hoping it helps cover up the panic and pain.
Then I go to Grandpa’s room on the third floor, desperately praying for a miracle. Dr. Benton’s saying something soothing to my grandfather, but he keeps saying, “Where’s my baby? Where’s Kat?”
I step forward, forcing a smile. My chin trembles, and I tighten my jaw. “Hi.”
Grandpa’s eyes swing to me. “Kat!”
My eyes burn with tears, but I hold them back. He looks unbelievably frail. It’s like he’s lost half his weight, and his soul is ready to take leave of his body. “Hi,” I croak.
“What’s wrong with your voice?”
“I was singing late last night, and I strained my voice a little.”
“Want some hot lemon tea?” He swallows with some effort. “With honey?”
“Yes. I’d love that.”
He starts to push feebly at the sheets.
I put a hand over his. His skin’s so cold, like he’s already half-dead.Please…I hold his hand in mine, trying to warm it, as though that will keep him here longer. “Later.”
“You sure?”
I nod because I can’t bring myself to speak.
He blinks, then nods. “Okay.” Then he’s quiet for a moment.
I use the silence to compose myself, breathing over his hands, hoping I can warm him. A person who’s warm can’t be dying, right? But even as I want to deny it, I know I have to say goodbye. Except I don’t know how.
