My Caregiver Day

We had agreed to go to school together because my first class was his. Stepping out of my room, I found the place devoid of any signs of life—no breakfast on the table, no familiar presence in sight. Did he leave already, or was he still asleep? Since the last time I impulsively barged in, entering his room didn't require much formality anymore. It was simply a matter of turning the knob and walking in. Occasionally, I'd remind myself to knock, but more often than not, I'd forget in my eagerness to see him.

I pushed the door open, stepping into his room to find him still nestled in his bed. Contemplating whether to play a little prank on him—maybe a gentle morning kiss to rouse him—I reached out and brushed his cheek. But as my fingers made contact, a wave of unexpected heat emanated from his skin, instantly knotting my stomach with worry. Gripping his shoulder, I gave him a gentle shake, urging him to wake up.

"Neil, why are you burning up like this? Are you feeling unwell?" My voice