“Do you have medicine somewhere?”
He let his head fall onto the pillow and pointed toward the bathroom door. Beneath the sink, I found a small plastic box stuffed with medicine. There were fever pills, cough syrup, bandages, and way too many headache pills.
“The box says you should take one every eight hours. Have you taken any yet?” He shook his head. “You should start now, but first… have you eaten?”
He sighed and cracked his eyes open to look at me.
“No.”
“I’ll make you something. What do you feel like eating?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“For situations like this, chicken soup is good. Or maybe vegetable soup…”
“Are you deaf?”
I ignored the comment and headed to the kitchen. The first thing I did was check the refrigerator, but the only thing inside was frozen food.
Despite the lack of
