Orphanage—that wasn't what Moon had envisioned for herself. She had always dreamt of achieving something greater, something meaningful. She wasn't the kind of person to let fate decide her future, yet here she was, lying in a hospital bed, her destiny seemingly carved out for her. The idea of being sent away to an orphanage, of being labeled an orphan, made her stomach churn.
Her mother was most likely dead, and as for her sister, well… that was another story entirely. Deep down, Moon knew that Grace was capable enough to manage on her own. Her sister was resourceful, intelligent—she would survive. But what about Moon? She had spent the first few days in the hospital confined to bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Occasionally, Dr. Alexander's assistant would come in to check on her, administering medicine or changing her bandages, but she found it strange that Dr. Alexander himself was rarely present.
From bits and pieces of conversations she had overheard, Moon learned that Dr. Alexander was not just any doctor—he was one of the youngest and most renowned physicians in the country. His name carried weight, his reputation legendary. He had successfully treated more than five hundred people afflicted by the plague, a devastating illness that had wiped out nearly half of the population. In fact, she was among the first ten he had managed to cure.
Perhaps that explained his absence. Maybe he was too busy saving others, too preoccupied with his work to linger at her bedside. And yet, despite knowing this, Moon couldn't shake the feeling of heaviness in her heart. Was it because she was still unwell? Or was it the realization that, soon, the only person who had been taking care of her would be gone?
She was getting better, yes, but with each passing day, she drew closer to the inevitable—the orphanage. The thought of it gnawed at her, an unwelcome reality creeping ever closer.
"You know, half the country was killed by the plague. It's almost like you're a trophy," the assistant remarked casually one day, as he adjusted the blanket covering her.
Moon frowned, the words unsettling. A trophy? That word didn't sit right with her. She didn't want to be considered some kind of prize for surviving something that had stolen her mother and left her completely alone. "Trophy? Why would you say that?" she asked, her voice laced with intrigue.
The assistant cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed. "Alex—uh, I mean, Dr. Alexander—worked tirelessly to find a treatment that would save people like you. He worked day and night, barely resting." His gaze drifted toward the window, where a large tree stood outside. Once vibrant and full of life, its branches now hung dry and lifeless, a stark reminder of the changing seasons. Soon, winter would arrive, blanketing the world in snow. And this year, she wouldn't be watching it from the window of her small, crumbling house. She would be in an orphanage.
Her chest tightened at the thought.
"Where is he now? Dr. Alexander?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
The assistant gestured toward the window, and Moon followed his gaze. There, outside, Dr. Alexander crouched beside an elderly woman, his hands gently clasping hers. He spoke in hushed tones, his expression calm yet intense. Moon couldn't make out what he was saying, but the sight stirred something in her.
"May I go talk to him?" she asked, seizing the opportunity. Perhaps using him as an excuse would grant her temporary freedom from this bed.
The assistant hesitated. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea."
Moon didn't care. "I've been here for two days now. May I at least leave this bed?" she insisted.
A flicker of sympathy crossed the assistant's face before he finally relented. "I suppose."
With newfound determination, Moon swung her legs over the edge of the bed and made her way down the long hallway. The floor was cool beneath her bare feet, and the air carried the sterile scent of antiseptics and herbs. As she reached the entrance, Dr. Alexander was just stepping back inside, his long coat swaying slightly as he moved. His emerald eyes landed on her immediately, a mixture of surprise and mild disapproval in his gaze.
"Little girl, why are you out of bed?" His deep voice was both stern and gentle, holding an unmistakable warmth beneath the surface.
"I wanted to know when the orphanage is going to take me in," Moon said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the lump forming in her throat.
Dr. Alexander's expression softened, though his response was firm. "I checked, and it seems you'll be leaving in two days."
Two days. That was too soon—too close for comfort.
"I see," she murmured, exhaling a shaky breath.
Seeing the worry in her face, Dr. Alexander carefully placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He was tall—too tall, in fact. His presence, both commanding and comforting, made her feel smaller than ever.
"I know this isn't what you want to hear, but I actually think it's best for you to go to the orphanage," he said, his gaze steady as he met her eyes.
Before she could respond, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
Moon's breath hitched. Her face grew hotter, her thoughts rushing in like a powerful stream.
"Do you kiss every patient?" she blurted out, her voice slightly shaky from the unexpected gesture.
Dr. Alexander chuckled, dimples forming at the corners of his mouth. "Only the ones that I like."
A long, awkward silence stretched between them before he ruffled her hair playfully. "Don't take it the wrong way. I meant liking as a person, not… you know."
Moon swallowed, nodding. She told herself that she understood what he meant, repeating it over and over in her mind as the sun set and she crawled back into bed that night.
The next morning, a peculiar feeling stirred her awake. She had the uncanny sensation of being watched. Slowly, she opened her eyes, her breath catching—
But there was no one there.
Only Dr. Alexander, sitting nearby, writing something down in a notebook. Probably whatever doctors write about their 'liked patients.'
"Good morning, sweetheart," he greeted, looking up from his notes. His voice was smooth, familiar, and those dimples—those dimples that made her feel things she couldn't quite explain—were back.
"Hm," she answered groggily, unsure of what else to say.
After a brief silence, she gathered the courage to ask, "Nothing about my sister?"
Dr. Alexander exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Like I told you yesterday, she hasn't come back since the day she brought you here."
It was true. She had asked the day before, trying to change the topic after their awkward conversation, but the answer remained the same.
"I know I've been asking a lot, but what if she comes back and I won't be here?" Moon's voice wavered, the fear of being forgotten gnawing at her. What if Grace thought she had died? What if she came back only to find Moon had been taken away without her knowledge?
Dr. Alexander studied her carefully before sighing. "I'm sure if she does, I'll be willing to tell her. But for now, you'll have to stop with the questions, alright, love?"
His words were meant to reassure, but Moon couldn't shake the unease settling in her chest.