"Mom!" Zara screamed, her voice echoing through the house.
"Okay, I'm getting the umbrella. Don't sweat over it," Fred yelled back, disappearing into a side room.
Zara slid onto the couch, crossing her legs like she owned the place. She looked way too comfortable, considering the chaos happening outside.
Fred returned, a transparent umbrella dangling from his hand, his eyes glued to his iPhone. Only God knows what had him so engrossed—maybe Candy Crush, maybe texting his "mystery girl."
Zara rolled her eyes, snatched the umbrella, and handed it to Ann, who was curled up like a cold little kitten.
"Thanks," Ann said sweetly. Then she turned to me, her tone sharpening. "Zi, go get our clothes from the car. The guards aren't answering. No network."
I gasped. "No way! You don't actually expect me to go out there all alone, right?"
"You want us to die from cold?"
"I'll get it," Fred interrupted, sliding his phone into his pocket.
Ann clasped her hands dramatically. "Awwwn! Such a gentleman!"
I rolled my eyes so hard I swear I saw my brain. At that moment, I would've preferred facing the rain alone than watching Ann bat her lashes at Fred like he was some K-drama lead.
"A black Mercedes," I muttered, not meeting Fred's eyes.
He nodded briskly and walked out into the storm, his tall frame vanishing into the sheets of rain. Ann's gaze followed him like he was the second coming of Jesus.
"Let's head to my room so you can change," Zara said to Ann, ignoring me completely.
And just like that, they vanished upstairs, giggling like long-lost sisters. I sat alone in the living room, cold gnawing at my bones. Goosebumps rippled across my skin. My teeth clattered. My head spun. I dialed Mom again—no network. Figures.
I hugged myself, whispering, "Oh Lord, please don't let me die in Fred's house. Of all places."
Suddenly, something warm and heavy draped over my shoulders. I looked up.
"Should prevent you from catching cold," Fred said, handing me the comforter. He held a soggy bag in his other hand. "Here are your clothes. The guards are parked out front if you need them."
"Thanks," I mumbled, trying to sound unbothered, but the warmth of the blanket was heaven.
"You should change before you get worse," he added, watching me carefully.
I stood, clutching the bag, looking lost. "Uh… where do I…?"
"I'll walk you," he said.
As we climbed the endless staircase (seriously, it felt like climbing Mount Everest), I tried to distract myself. "So why weren't you in school today?"
He smirked faintly. "Nothing serious."
Halfway up, he suddenly pressed his palm against my forehead. His face darkened.
"Your temperature's high," he said.
"I always get sick when I'm drenched," I admitted, trying to shrug it off. But I was shivering violently now. My knees wobbled. My chest tightened.
"Man, I'm tired," I whispered, slumping against the wall.
Fred frowned, hesitating, then said, "I can carry you if you don't mind."
"Carry me? Please. You'll break. I'm way too big for you."
He smirked. "Try me."
I shook my head, forcing myself to stand straighter. "No way. I'll walk. I'm not about to owe you anything."
We finally reached Zara's room. Fred knocked.
"Come in!" Zara's voice sang from inside.
Fred pushed the door open, and boom—Zara and Ann were sitting cross-legged on the bed, wiggling their brows at me like gossiping witches.
I frowned, but before I could retort, the world tilted sideways. My head pounded, vision blurred, and darkness swallowed me whole.
---
When I opened my eyes again, everything was fuzzy. A cool, damp cloth rested on my forehead. Voices blurred around me.
"She's awake!" Fred's voice cut through, way too loud.
I winced. "Not so loud…"
"Zizi, baby!" Mom rushed to my side, stroking my hair. Her perfume hit me instantly—familiar, grounding.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" Mrs. McClain (Fred's mom) asked warmly, adjusting the cloth on my head.
Ann hovered behind them, her brows knitted in fake concern.
"I'm fine," I croaked, though my throat burned.
"Sure? No pain?" Mom pressed, kissing my forehead.
"Nothing serious could've happened to this weakling," Zimba's voice piped up.
I turned my head. My brother leaned against the wall, smirking. Of course he'd show up now.
Mom shot him a death glare, and he stifled a laugh.
The physician stepped forward, placing a stethoscope back into his bag. "She'll be fine. Just rest and take the meds I've prescribed."
Mom nodded. "Thank you, doctor." She pulled Zimba aside, whispering instructions before sending him out with the physician.
Fred hovered at the edge of the bed, watching me. "You should learn to take care of yourself," he teased softly.
Ann giggled. "Yeah, drama queen."
"Mtchew. Leave me alone," I hissed, turning my head.
"She's acting like a kid," Ann added, rolling her eyes.
"Guys, stop," Zara piped up, surprisingly defensive. "She's sick."
Fred reached forward, touching my neck gently. "Her temperature's dropping. That's good."
I shoved his hand away weakly. "See? I'm fine."
Mom re-entered the room, carrying a glass of water and the meds. "Fine or not, you're taking these."
If only she knew how badly I wanted to snap back. But I swallowed the pills like an obedient angel. Not because of her. But because I refused to look weak in front of Fred.
---
Author's Note:
Phew! What an exhausting chapter, right? Rain, drama, fainting, and Fred carrying mysterious secrets… 👀 I know I've been slow in updating, but I'm currently preparing for my university entrance exams. So please bear with me and send me your prayers—I want to ace this! 🥺💖
And ohhh… what's coming next? Let's just say the night isn't over yet. Someone's about to overhear something they shouldn't. Stay tuned.