Just then, the door swung open.
"I'm here, unnie."
Before I could even blink, Layla threw herself onto the bed, draping her tiny body across my lap and wrapping her arms around me like she never planned to let go. Her whole frame was trembling.
"I thought you were dead."
My heart clenched hard at her words, a painful twist of guilt and love. I cupped the back of her head and forced my voice to stay steady. "I'm sorry for scaring you. But look at me—" I tilted her chin so she'd meet my eyes. "Not dead, am I?"
"No," she murmured, though the word was broken by a little sob. Tears spilled freely down her pale cheeks, leaving streaks I wanted to wipe away all at once. "I'm glad."
"Me too," I said softly, hugging her closer until her warmth was pressed fully into me. I dropped a kiss on top of her head and breathed her in, relief flowing through me in dizzying waves. "I'm so, so sorry I scared you, kiddo."
She clung to me tighter, as if afraid I'd vanish if she let go.
"Sorry our carnival day got ruined," I whispered against her hair, running a gentle hand down her back.
What I didn't say—but felt with every heartbeat—was that I'd take a hundred ruined days over even one more moment thinking I'd lost her. Layla's laugh was shaky but real, her cheeks still damp. "It's okay. We can do it again when you get better."
"Definitely," I promised, even if a small part of me wasn't sure when "better" would be.
The door opened and a nurse in cheerful, cartoon-print scrubs bustled in, her sigh somewhere between relief and mild exasperation.
"What's up?" I asked with a hesitant smile.
"You're fine," she assured before launching into a long spiel about new vitamins and keeping up with hydration. "The doctor's prescribed a different combination, so we'll see how that works for you."
"Thank you. Everything is, um... all right?" My eyes flicked meaningfully toward Layla, silently warning the nurse not to get too blunt about anything.
"Yep. Everything looks good. Perfect, in fact."
"Excellent." Relief slipped into my voice as I glanced toward Layla. "Would it be possible for someone to take her to get a snack? She's had a big day."
The nurse nodded and gently shepherded Layla out of the room, giving me—finally—a few moments of stillness.
A few moments to think. To worry. To decide how I was going to handle things when Jungkook inevitably showed up.
Which, naturally, happened far sooner than I wanted.
The door swung open hard, and there he was—handsome, worried, and simmering with anger. A nurse trailed behind him, looking like she was debating whether to intervene.
"What the hell is going on?" His voice was sharp, his eyes scanning the room like a predator locked onto a target. "Layla?" His gaze flicked everywhere, urgent. "Where is she?"
"With one of the nurses, getting something to eat," I said, my tone flatter than I intended. His fear was understandable, but the intensity of it scraped against my frayed nerves. "She's fine. Safe. Just a little scared after watching me keel over."
Only then did his gaze really focus on me—on the hospital bed, the wires, the monitors beeping in steady rhythm. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing you need to be worried about," I said, aiming for breezy but landing somewhere closer to curt.
"Bullshit." The word cracked like a whip. "As your employer, I have a right to know."
"No, you don't." I met his glare evenly. "I can still do my job. If you doubt that, then go ahead—fire me."
His nostrils flared, quick and sharp. "You're in the hospital, YN."
I shrugged. "Medical emergencies happen."
"Why are you being like this?" His voice dropped, rougher now, less anger and more confusion under the surface.
I looked away, focusing on some meaningless spot on the wall. "I don't know what you mean. My health is my business. I wouldn't normally share it with my employer, and since my contract says I'm staying here anyway... it's irrelevant. Isn't it?"
He growled low in his chest, every muscle in his frame tight, his frustration coiling so thick I could almost feel it pressing against my skin.
Then he turned on his heel and left—slamming the door behind him without another word.
And even though I'd been holding my ground to protect myself, the echo of his departure left the room feeling emptier than I wanted to admit.

I couldn't help it, I smiled.

Payback was a bitch but sometimes she was a funny bitch.

Jungkook's POV
"None of your concern," she'd said—as if that was an answer I should just accept and swallow, and be done with. I grumbled under my breath as I paced the bright, sterile hallway outside YN's hospital room. My nerves were shot; I kept scrubbing at my face like I could wipe away the anxiety, but it just clung tighter.
She was in the hospital, and she wouldn't tell me why. Not a single detail. "Dammit," I muttered, turning back at the end of the hall—again—racking up steps like it would solve anything.
A nurse with kind eyes laid a gentle hand on my shoulder, probably trying to get me to stop wearing holes in the linoleum. "Can I help you with something, sir?"
I stopped, blinking. "What? No—I mean, I don't need anything except answers. Which she—won't give me," I snapped, my gaze sliding to YN's door. "I'm fine. Really. Just...worried."
The nurse gave me a tight, but familiar smile—the kind people in places like this wear when they see worry every shift. "There's a waiting room just down the hall if you'd like to sit."
Of course. I was probably scaring off the other patients with my pacing—driving everyone crazy except myself. "Right. Sorry." I tried to quell my nerves, but gave up halfway. "I'm just... Never mind."
Before I could escape down the hall, another nurse appeared, walking quickly with Layla beside her. She looked up, offered a quick, smiling glance—then, without missing a beat, abruptly handed me a thick stack of paperwork.
"You must be the dad," she said, matter-of-fact.
For a second, her words threw me. I caught the papers reflexively, glancing at her, at Layla, and back again.
"I am, yes," I said—hesitated—a frown pulling at my mouth. I looked down at Layla, searching her face for any sign that she'd heard or minded. "What is all this?"