As midnight tentatively entered the apartment, Maya was still as sick as she had been all day. She wasn't locked in the bathroom anymore, as she came out now and then to get a drink or try going to sleep, but as far as her mom was concerned, no one else was allowed to take care of her. She insisted that she was capable of caring for herself, and Katy was having to limit every muscle in her body from getting anywhere near her snappish daughter.
Most of the time, there was a tense silence between the two of them; Katy would peek around the edge of her bedroom door frame, aching at the sight of her daughter lying alone on the couch. Sometimes, she would softly call over to her, trying to convince Maya to let her take her temperature, or at least to talk with her.
"Honey - are you okay?" Katy would say, eyeing her from the other room.
"I'm fine," Maya would answer, aggravation clearly heard in her tone.
Katy would hesitate over saying anything afterwards, but would end up instinctively asking her again, "Can I take your temperature?"
"No, I don't think I have a fever," Maya responded with patience despite her annoyance.
"Okay...I'll be getting ready for bed if you need me."
As the quiet hours had now passed into minutes before one o' clock in the morning, Katy was sitting at the end of her bed, arguing inside her mind over what she should do. Maya didn't think she needed help, and so far, she had been doing well in handling the nasty virus alone. Being her mother, though, Katy was yearning to sit next to her and comfort her, and it was hurting her to realize that - like usual - Maya wanted to live like she had no mom.
She felt like Maya hated her, so she hated herself for letting Maya feel that way.
Beginning to fold back the bed sheets and give up on the night, Katy suddenly jumped as she heard Maya retching again. She paused, still holding a corner of the blankets as she listened to her daughter from behind the walls. She sounded really sick - more sick than she should sound after as many hours that had passed. Maya must have started throwing up early in the morning at school, and now, it was the morning hours of the next day.
After Maya had finished, Katy paced back and forth between her closed door and the bed. She felt like this situation had gotten to the point where she needed to ignore her daughter's weird rule and go help her; if the night followed the same pattern, Maya would probably need help from the only place open late at night - the emergency room.
With sudden determination and confidence, Katy quickly opened the door and turned into the bathroom. However, Maya wasn't sitting on the floor, and when she pivoted around to glance into the living room, she wasn't lying on the couch. Katy looked into the kitchen, then popped her head into Maya's bedroom; the window leading into the fire escape was open, as cold air was starting to chill the apartment.
Maya had left.