No Love For The Villain - Chapter 12
“Daniel has a fever. I’ll call for the doctor on my way back from church, so can you look after him? Soak a washcloth in cool water and wipe his face. You need to change and rewet the cloth frequently. Understood?”
Mrs. Miles’s eyes were strained, overflowing with worry for her son.
“My poor boy, what are we to do when he’s this sick? It seems he must have caught a chill at the funeral. The weather was so cold, and to have had him standing there like that… it’s no wonder this happened. If anything happens to that child, I’ll truly go mad.”
Mrs. Miles spoke as if Daniel’s fever was because of the funeral.
But Sierra imagined Daniel, tormented by the guilt of the sin he committed throughout the night. He was likely suffering from a fever, haunted by nightmares of being punished by the pastor.
Sierra walked down the chilly corridor still in her thin nightgown. As she filled a basin with water and gathered the washcloths, her bare feet stung from the cold floor.
Going to Daniel’s room, Sierra did as Mrs. Miles instructed, wetting the cloth and wiping Daniel’s face. Daniel, still not fully awake, moaned whenever the cool cloth touched him.
Each time, Sierra’s hand would hesitate without her even realizing it. It was because the memory of his ragged, panting breath near her ear from the night before resurfaced.
The recollection of his hands crawling over her body like insects, even the memory of that fishy, nauseating smell, made it hard to breathe.
It felt as if a thick hand was still covering her mouth.
“Sierra.”
Mrs. Miles’s call snapped her out of her daze. Sierra flinched as if struck by a whip and rewet the cloth.
Mrs. Miles, who had been looking at her son with pity, took Sierra’s hand. The gaze that met hers held, for a moment, the affection she felt for her son.
“Sierra, you have no idea how much of a comfort you are to us. What blessing did our family receive to gain such a kind and beautiful daughter?”
Mrs. Miles subtly slotted Sierra into the family space and gently stroked her cheek. The affectionate touch pried its way into her loneliness.
In the flowing silence, Mrs. Miles examined Sierra’s face like a diagnosing doctor.
“Why is your face so pale? Couldn’t you sleep? If there’s anything hurting you, you must tell me.”
Mrs. Miles, who had brushed back Sierra’s stray hair, looked her steadily in the eyes.
“If any problem has arisen… we’re family, aren’t we? I’ve always thought of you as my own daughter. Perhaps, about last night—”
‘Last night.’ Following those words, the events of last night came to mind. Sierra looked into Mrs. Miles’s kind eyes. Wouldn’t Mrs. Miles understand?
Maybe Mrs. Miles would help. To make Daniel stop coming to her room. So she wouldn’t have to endure nights where insects crawled over her body anymore, so she wouldn’t have to bear it like a corpse anymore…
Hope recklessly bloomed in her chest. Even though it still felt as if Daniel was covering her mouth, Sierra moved her parched lips.
“…Daniel came to my room. Daniel told me not to tell the Pastor. I won’t tell. But if you could just tell Daniel not to come at night anymore…”
Sierra trailed off, unable to finish her sentence, because the kindness in Mrs. Miles’s eyes vanished in an instant.
“Yes, Sierra. Don’t tell the Pastor. It’s not a big deal, and he’d only make a fuss. Boys that age can be like that sometimes. You know how much Daniel likes you, don’t you? You can take good care of him, right? Please. Daniel needs you.”
Mrs. Miles, who had wiped her son’s face with a handkerchief, left the room. Sierra could only watch Mrs. Miles’s retreating back.
Only the sound of Daniel’s ragged breathing remained in the now-silent room.
While Daniel’s fever cooled, Sierra’s hands, soaked in cold water for so long, grew numb and ached with cold. She clenched and unclenched her stiffened fingers. The joints hurt as if they might break.
‘A kind and beautiful daughter.’
The words Mrs. Miles had left as bait for her hungry mind circled in her head. A kind and beautiful daughter, a beloved daughter. The more she wished those words were truly hers, the more she felt crushed, unable to move as she wished.
In the moment when she felt the illusion of the walls closing in like an inescapable coffin, a dizzy Sierra squeezed her eyes shut.
‘Someone, please get me out of here. Take me anywhere. Anywhere but here. Even a pitch-black pit, even a burning hell.’
But no one came, and nothing happened.
Sierra rewet the now-tepid cloth in cool water. She wiped Daniel’s face.
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