"Can you please stop spanking me already?"
"Of course. If Nate is scared, Sister can bite you a few times instead."
"I didn't even do anything that bad, though. Why do you have to punish me?" Noah looked up at Evelyn with those pitiful eyes, a faint plea flickering across his face.
"Sister doesn't like seeing you get close to other girls. Is that reason enough?" Evelyn reached out and pinched his cheek—not hard, not soft, just enough to carry a quiet warning.
"Why?"
The word slipped out before he could stop it, and he immediately knew it was a stupid question.
But back when he was still spending time with Lila, Evelyn hadn't objected—not once. So why now did even the smallest hint of closeness with any girl feel like something she couldn't tolerate?
"When you like something enough, Nate, you want to keep it only for yourself. You start hating the thought of anyone else touching it." She smoothed her hand over his hair, the motion slow and deliberate, the way one might calm a child who still didn't understand the world. "And if there's ever a chance to take it completely, Sister will make sure nothing can ever take it away again. Until it belongs to me—entirely."
"That sounds… really intense." His throat worked visibly, a small, involuntary swallow as the weight of her words settled into his chest. He remembered what she'd called the thing she liked, and a faint tremor ran through him. "Sis… are you talking about… me?"
"Guess, little dummy."
Noah didn't know what to think. If that was the role he filled in her eyes—if he was that kind of possession—then what was he supposed to do? What could he even do? Would he still obey her the way he did now? And what exact version of himself did she actually want?
He chewed mechanically on the greasy, tender chicken, but the flavor seemed to vanish somewhere between his tongue and his mind. A heavy, sinking quiet spread through the hospital room, thick enough to press against the skin.
Evelyn walked to the window and drew half the curtain closed.
Outside, the sky was darkening fast. Wind scraped against the glass, gathering dry, yellowed leaves and dragging them into unseen corners where they disappeared.
"Will Nate be scared sleeping here alone tonight?"
"No way. I'm way too old to be afraid of the dark."
"Really? I remember when you were terrified of it. You wouldn't fall asleep unless Sister was holding you."
"That was forever ago. I was tiny."
The memories were blurry fragments—probably from before he could even form clear recollections, back when he was still in early elementary school, maybe younger. He wasn't sure anymore whether the fear had been real darkness… or just an excuse to crawl into her arms.
"Yes, Nate's all grown up now. So much more sensible, so independent." Evelyn gazed out through the glass, her voice soft with something that might have been nostalgia. The bright scatter of city lights reflected in her dark, sharply defined eyes. "I've always missed that little version of you—the one who hadn't grown up yet, so simple it was almost funny, who believed everything Sister said without question. You were my best pet… and the most perfect, moldable treasure."
Even now, the way he looked was exactly what she wanted: body matured just right, every inch carrying a sweetness that clung like honey, yet his soul already marked, already carrying traces of someone else's scent. It made her quietly furious.
Lila… she didn't deserve him. No matter how much better she became, it would never be enough.
"Do you think Sister has done a good job raising you?"
"I mean… yeah? I even got into Loane University. Aren't you satisfied?"
"Education isn't only about grades, Nate."
"Then I feel like I'm doing pretty well in the other areas too." He started counting on his fingers, shamelessly listing his own virtues. "Look—I don't have any bad habits, my circle is small and clean, I study hard, I respect my elders. Textbook three-good-student material."
"But…" Evelyn closed her eyes for a moment; the rest of the sentence drifted away so softly it dissolved into the air. "…you were supposed to belong only to Sister."
Noah didn't catch the murmured half-line. Still completely unguarded, he asked, "By the way, Sis—are you staying here tonight?"
A simple folding cot stood beside the hospital bed, already made up with thick blankets. Whenever she stayed over to take care of him, Evelyn slept there.
"Tomorrow Sister doesn't have class. I can keep you company all night."
"Honestly, it's not that serious. Just a headache. I can handle most things myself." He lifted his gaze to meet hers, trying to look as relaxed as possible. "Sis, I don't want to get you sick."
"Yesterday when the worst of it hit, you weren't saying that. You couldn't even stand up without help; everything had to be done by Sister. Isn't it a little late to act tough now?"
"That… that was just the peak of it."
"And what if it happens again tonight?" Evelyn moved to the folding cot, smoothing the rumpled blankets with careful hands, her voice low and soothing. "The doctor prescribed Sister some immune boosters too. Don't worry about it, Nate."
"…Okay. Fine."
The sky outside turned fully black. Thick night seeped into the sterile white room. A nurse came in to check vitals, administer an injection, hand him his evening meds.
Evelyn sat on the edge of the cot, scrolling through her phone—psychology journals, lecture notes, research PDFs. She had no real hobbies outside of this; in her free time she sank completely into study and books. Her mind was clean and single-track: almost nothing held her interest for long. Except Noah. And the kind of academic work most people avoided.
A notification pinged—voice call. She glanced over. Noah, fresh from the shot, answered. A burst of rowdy male voices spilled through the speaker.
"Hey, you feeling any better? Want us to swing by?"
"Hurry up and heal already. Once you're out we're going hard on food."
"Place feels weird without you in the dorm, man."
Noah cleared his throat, voice still weak. "Head's still spinning. Probably stuck here a few more days."
"Want us to come see you? Bring snacks, drinks, whatever."
"Nah, you guys just stay alive. That's enough."
There was a pause, then a sheepish chorus. "Actually… we kinda miss you. Like, a lot. And, uh… this advanced calc homework is killing us."
"So you miss my answers."
"Mostly you. Get better fast." Caleb's voice boomed, carrying clearly across the quiet room. "But also… today's problem set. Any chance you could take a look? Help us out?"
Noah turned his head. Evelyn was watching him, cheek resting on her hand, expression calm. He gave her an awkward smile. "Guys, keep it down. My sister's right here."
"Oh shit—Professor Evelyn? Never mind, we'll figure it out ourselves." Panic edged into the voices. "Get better soon, man. We're hanging up. Bye."
The call ended. Noah was already opening his mouth to plead their case.
The pass rate for advanced calculus was the lowest of their courses; participation points mattered a lot, and whether Evelyn decided to be lenient or ruthless could easily decide if they had to retake the class.
"Sis, they actually try pretty hard most of the time. That was just… a special situation."
"Nate's still worrying about them?" Evelyn's voice stayed perfectly even, almost gentle. "Copying homework for classmates every day… don't you think Sister should give you a little lesson for that?"
"Can you at least not dock their points?"
"Nate should worry more about himself. Once you're better, Sister plans to settle both the new debts and the old ones together."
Evelyn said it lightly, almost offhand, the way someone might mention weekend plans. But Noah still felt the familiar twist of fear coil low in his stomach. Her near-limitless indulgence had always rested on one unspoken condition: that he stayed obedient enough. When it came time to actually discipline him, she never hesitated, never softened.
His fingers tightened reflexively around the empty takeout container; the two chicken legs had been stripped to bare bones, stray grains of rice floating in the greasy remnants of sauce at the bottom.
"Sis, don't scare me like that."
"You think Sister is joking?" She pulled a tissue from the box and wiped the oily smear from the corner of his mouth, her smile still gentle, almost tender. "Nate still needs quite a bit more education. Though there is one thing you can relax about."
"What?"
"Your good roommates—they'll pass the course no matter what. Sister is only interested in how you perform."
Evelyn took the finished container from his hands, set it aside, then reached over to tug the blanket higher, tucking it firmly over his shoulders until only his head remained exposed. "If anything hurts, rest properly. Tell Sister if you need something."
"…Thanks, Sis."
The room settled back into quiet. The overhead light burned too bright, glaring down on the starched white sheets, on his too-pale skin, pressing the air until it felt hard to breathe. Outside the door, hurried footsteps echoed faintly down the hall.
A young nurse in a white coat stepped in, adjusted the IV drip hanging above Noah's bed, then glanced toward Evelyn. "Are you family?"
"Yes. I'm his sister."
"Could you step out for a moment? There's something we need to discuss."
Noah's eyes flicked between them, puzzled. Evelyn rose smoothly and followed the nurse out.
In the hospital lobby, at the front desk, the nurse handed her a printed report. "This is your brother's lab results. The doctor asked me to pass this along. He's been taking some kind of psychoactive substance recently—effect unclear. Were you aware?"
Evelyn glanced down at the neat rows of text. The drug name matched exactly the label on the bottle tucked inside her nightstand drawer. Of course she knew.
"My brother has bipolar disorder. These are part of his treatment." Her voice stayed perfectly calm, measured.
The nurse frowned, clearly unconvinced. A boy this gentle, this quick to smile—how could he possibly have an anger-driven psychiatric condition? Such a shame, staining what should have been bright, promising years…
Since the family claimed to understand the situation, she couldn't press further. She could only offer gentle advice. "With psychiatric medications, dosage is critical. Too much can cause irreversible damage."
"Thank you for the reminder."
Evelyn smiled—soft, composed, the faint curve at the corners of her eyes carrying nothing but polite calm. Every gesture, every word perfectly convincing.
When she returned to the room, Noah had already fished both hands out from under the blanket again, clutching his phone, staring at the screen. She reached over and smoothed his hair, voice gentle. "Still restless even when you're sick? Is it really that entertaining?"
"I can't sleep, Sis. What did the nurse want?"
"She said you've been very disobedient during your stay. Told Sister to keep a closer eye on you."
"I didn't do anything! You're messing with me."
"Still so slow to catch on." Evelyn's tone stayed light. "Nothing serious. Just that your constitution is too weak right now. She reminded Sister to watch you carefully. Nate—you need to focus on getting better."
She settled back onto the folding cot, slipped off her shoes and socks, picked up the thick textbook she'd left earlier, and slid on her silver-framed glasses. The cold, strikingly beautiful sharpness of her features softened just slightly into something more intellectual, more composed.
Two full IV bags later, drowsiness finally began to overtake him. Noah tugged the blanket closer, curling deeper until only half his face peeked out. He stared blankly at Evelyn.
Her beauty was the kind that could ruin kingdoms—every small movement, every shift of expression capable of pulling heartstrings taut. Especially when she was focused like this: posture perfect, features flawless, untouchable.
"Sis… you're nearsighted?"
"The prescription on these is very low. Nowhere near actual nearsightedness."
"Is being a college professor really exhausting?"
Evelyn didn't look up from the page. Her voice drifted over, soft. "It's manageable. Compared to the workload or the fatigue, what matters far more is whether a certain little fool lets Sister have any peace of mind."
"I… I'm way easier to handle now than when I was little, right?"
She turned another page, tone almost absent. "Sister would prefer you stayed exactly like you were back then—trailing behind me all day, easy to watch, impossible for you to get into trouble."
"I wasn't that mischievous."
"Then why are you lying in this hospital bed right now?"
The words caught in his throat. He couldn't argue. If he'd simply followed her rules, stayed quiet and obedient the way she'd always asked, he wouldn't be here.
Evelyn slipped the bookmark between the pages, removed her glasses, set the book aside. "If you're ready to sleep, Sister will turn off the light."
"Yeah. Good night, Sis."
"Good night, Nate."
The switch clicked. Darkness rushed in, sudden and complete, swallowing the room except for the thin, fragile threads of light leaking through the window blinds.
His breathing grew shallow, blending into the stillness. Exhaustion thickened in his skull, heavy and syrupy. Noah let his mind go blank, surrendering to the sick haze—once he fell asleep, the discomfort would fade.
The night deepened, vast and borderless.
Something like countless black, oily arms seemed to drag at his limbs, pulling heat deeper into his core. His head throbbed viciously.
He had no idea what time it was. The world had gone silent. His lips cracked, dry and peeling. Sleep refused to come.
He curled tighter, fingers knotted in the blanket. Fine sweat beaded across his forehead, down his spine. Then came the coughing—harsh, wrenching bursts.
So hot. Head splitting…
A cool palm suddenly pressed against his forehead, easing the feverish burn. Noah cracked his eyes open. Evelyn's beautiful, urgent face hovered above him. Her voice was soft, careful. "Do you want water? Are you going to be sick?"
"I… I think I'm gonna throw up…"
She quickly opened a plastic bag and held it at the edge of the bed. Noah leaned over, coughing violently into it. Nausea surged—violent, unstoppable. His stomach heaved, spilling bitter, half-digested remnants mixed with earlier food.
Evelyn wiped the stray mess from around his mouth with a fresh tissue, carried the bag to the bathroom, then returned with a cup of warm water and set it on the bedside table.
After the vomiting passed, the churning in his stomach and the pounding in his skull eased slightly. Noah lay on his side, drained, body still radiating heat.
"Sis… it's so hot."
She gently rearranged the blanket he'd kicked loose, drawing it back up to his chin. "Be good. Sleep now and it'll pass. Sister's right here with you."
A few strands of cooler air brushed across his cheek, carrying the faint, signature scent of roses that always clung to her skin. It softened the fever, lulled him the same way it had since he was small—countless nights of fevers and colds, Evelyn always there, always steady, always holding him through it.