Sophie, forcibly dragged home by her mother, was suffering a severe allergic reaction. Pink hives had spread across all her exposed skin, and she was certain the skin hidden beneath her clothes was just as covered in those maddeningly itchy patches. Tears and snot streamed endlessly; her breathing was starting to falter.
Her mother, frantic, fetched antihistamine tablets and a glass of water, made her swallow them, and sat her by the open window to breathe fresh air and ease the symptoms.
"If you'd stayed facing that bouquet any longer, I'd have had to rush you to the hospital. Since that awful episode when you were six, you've never made such a huge mistake again—"
"Mom—I— Achoo— I, Achoo—" The reaction tormented Sophie; she wanted to explain, but couldn't get a word in.
"Enough. I saw everything. That blue-haired aristocratic boy holding a massive, expensive bouquet of roses—he was confessing to you." Her mother bustled about preparing dinner while muttering.
"Mmm," Sophie couldn't help scratching her neck; a thick red streak instantly appeared on her skin. "I never planned to say yes. Archibald suddenly showed up at C&C to pick me up. I only got in the car because I didn't want colleagues gossiping. Achoo—" Finishing that single sentence was a Herculean effort.
Her mother handed her an ice pack. "If it itches, don't scratch—you'll scar. Ice it." Despite everything, her mother's heart ached for Sophie. Softly, she added, "That boy is clearly either rich or noble. Be realistic, darling. A family like ours, with no background, can't fit into their world."
Sophie's eyes widened in shock. "Mom, what are you thinking? I don't like him. And he's just messing around—his girlfriends could line up from the alley entrance to the end of the lane. I'm not even in the queue… Achoo—"
"Fine, whether you're in the queue or not, it has nothing to do with you. Just make it clear to him." Her mother's voice carried worry. "Men from those aristocratic families love toying with girls from poor families like us… Don't fall…"
Her mother's words trailed off as she entered the kitchen. Sophie, whose allergic symptoms had somewhat eased, sat by the window unconcernedly, greedily breathing in the fresh air while scrolling through her phone.
Unbeknownst to her, tears had already streaked her mother's face in the kitchen. She was slowly waiting for the wave of emotion to pass. The sight on the street—of that aristocratic young man confessing to her daughter—had deeply shaken her. Scenes buried in memory instantly flashed before her eyes: the same setting, the same flowers, the same vivid pair of young lovers...
Her first instinct upon witnessing it was to pull her daughter away immediately, to prevent her from repeating the same mistake. Men like that had endless tricks up their sleeves. Her naive, soft-hearted daughter might not withstand the relentless, layered pursuit and eventually surrender, becoming a plaything for these nobles and the wealthy... Please, don't follow my old path.
Her mother's thoughts drifted further and further. The images in her mind played like frames in a movie. A dull throb began in her head, then escalated uncontrollably—her headaches had been more frequent lately. This time, it surged like a tidal wave, making her legs unsteady.
But she didn't stop what she was doing. She took several deep breaths, and only after a long while did the pain subside slightly. Then she carried the finished dishes out and called Sophie to dinner.
Originally, she had planned fresh tomato-basil prawns, chicken nuggets, and potato wedges for tonight's meal, but she no longer had the energy for such elaborate dishes. On the table was just one portion of pasta each.
"Ah—pasta again today! Mmm, Mom! I want tomato-basil prawns—" Sophie, having recovered a bit, tugged at her mother's arm and whined cutely.
Her mother shot her a glare and silently sat down to eat her pasta.
"Sophie, be my girlfriend! Sophie, be my girlfriend! I like you!" Having swapped the confession gift, Archibald was at it again. This time he stood beneath the apartment's window, holding a newly purchased Tiffany & Co. necklace and shouting loudly, earnestly awaiting a positive response from his goddess Sophie.
Mom and Sophie both stood up and went to the window to look down. This time Archibald's gift was even more ostentatious—a pricey gemstone necklace. Sophie anxiously made a "shh" gesture with her finger and signaled to Archibald that she'd call him later. After witnessing the whole scene, her mother's barely eased headache stabbed like needles. Seeing their intimate interaction, her vision went black, and she softly collapsed to the floor.
The two watching the scene instantly panicked. Sophie begged Archibald to help and take her mom to the hospital. Archibald rushed upstairs, scooped up her mother, and together with Sophie hailed a taxi to the nearest public hospital.
"Sarah Davies, Sarah Davies…" Sitting in the hospital corridor, Sophie heard the nurse calling her mom's name and immediately rushed forward. "Nurse, has my mom woken up? Is she okay?"
The nurse didn't answer directly. Holding the diagnostic form issued by the night-shift doctor, she said, "The patient is temporarily out of life-threatening danger but hasn't regained consciousness. The doctor needs to run tests to confirm the exact cause." She handed Sophie the detailed diagnostic sheet. "Miss, are you the patient's immediate family?"
"Yes, yes, I'm her daughter." Sophie anxiously scanned the form while answering.
"OK. Please sign this diagnostic form. We need to get the patient in for tests immediately. She's been unconscious with no visible bleeding, so a full series of exams is required—about three hours. After signing, please wait patiently here." The nurse delivered the instructions formulaically, took the signed form from Sophie, and hurried back to the treatment area.
After hearing the nurse's explanation, Sophie was terrified. Big tears rolled down her cheeks. Years of hard labor had worn down her mother's health, and in less than six months since moving from Manchester to New York, her mom had never had a proper rest.
The last time her mom fainted—when applying for the university offer—Sophie had been scared to death. Her mother woke up shortly after arriving at the hospital but stubbornly refused to spend money on further tests and insisted on going home. To this day, Sophie still didn't know what illness her mother had.