Kaya groaned and rolled over, slapping at her alarm clock. She got dressed quickly and snatched up her phone, heading for the bathroom. After she exited the bathroom she made her way for the kitchen. Matthew stopped her at his bedroom door.

"Kaya?" He asked. He sounded tired.

"Hmm? What do you want to eat?"

"I don't feel good, K-K."

K-K, a nickname he had used for her as a little kid. He hadn't called her that in years.

"What's wring, Matty?" Kaya knit her eyebrows and felt his forehead. "You don't have a fever."

"I don't know. I just don't feel well." Matthew was slumped against the doorway, leaning his head against it. "I'm really tired and my stomach feels weird."

"Do you think you might throw up?"

"I'm not sure."

Kaya frowned, feeling his skin again. "Why don't you go lie down and I'll get you something to eat."

"I'm not sure I want food."

"Can you try some, for me?"

Matthew hesitated, then nodded. Kaya went downstairs and came back up with some soup and crackers. She found Matt in the bathroom, and winced as she saw that had thrown up.

Matt was in mid-groan as she came in, and he flushed the toilet when she came closer.

"Are you okay?" Kaya asked softly.

Matt grunted in response and stood up, crossing to the sink to wash his hands and brush his teeth.

"I called the school and told them you can't come, but I have to work." She said softly, following him to his bed. She pulled the blanket up to his chest, and he curled up into a ball. "You still don't have a fever."

Matt grunted again.

"Listen, you have soup and crackers on the bedside table, water and some ibuprofen if you need it. Call me if you need anything." Kaya kissed his forehead, not really wanting to leave him.

"Thank you, K-K." Matt mumbled, closing his eyes. "I love you, sissy."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

When Kaya got home, Matt was lounging on the couch, watching television and seeming perfectly fine. He ate dinner hesitantly, and then laid down on the couch with his head in her lap.

"You're starting to feel warm," Kaya whispered.

"I feel sick, K-K."

"Well you are sick."

"No I'm not."

"You threw up this morning."

"I made myself," Matt's eyes were growing heavy. "I didn't want to go to school."

"Why?"

He hesitated. "I don't know."

Kaya bit her lip as she heard him bite back a sob.

"Don't worry, Matt, okay? I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." She whispered.

Matt fell asleep quickly as Kaya watched television, stroking his hair. She frowned and scrolled her phone, deciding to ask Trey about the case he'd had in court that day.

How was work?

Don't ask.

. . . I already did. . .

I noticed.

So . . . not good, I take it.

Well I won. Guy's getting twenty-two years for sexual assault and child rape, and another five for child abuse.

Oh my God. People are so disgusting. What makes them that way?

The Devil.

Are you always grumpy after winning a case?

Just this one.

Why?

It's personal.

Personal reasons or you know the person?

Both.

. . .

You're not asking again but you're going to wonder about me now, right?

More or less.

Okay.

What does okay mean?

It means okay.

That's not a very definitive word--like, definition-wise.

. . .

I said I was the legal guardian of my siblings, right?

Yes.

Well that's because when my brother was thirteen, he told me that our father had been sexually assaulting him for a year. My dad performed child rape on my half-sister and my full sister when they were nine. He abused all of us physically for years--somehow I was the only one who wasn't violated.

That's. . .

Awful?

Beyond awful :(

Yeah, well.

I can't change that it happened, can I

No

At least you put him away

Yeah, years too late. My brother's in therapy, my half-sister is on depression medication and my other sister just got out of therapy.

So . . . did they all sort of gravitate towards you then?

Yeah, we're pretty close. I'm not sure it's all because of him, but I guess they just felt safer. When I was seventeen our father left and got hooked on coke. When he came back he put my brother in a coma for two weeks--hit him and he went right through the glass doors. Docs thought he might not wake up at all.

Your family is a mess.

Yeah the story's never been very helpful with the ladies, either. They all think it means I'll be the next serial rapist or something.

I don't.

You don't?

No. I may have looked at a couple of your photos last night--your siblings seem to be well taken care of.

And that makes me a good person?

I don't know. You tell me.