The silence of the room was thick, broken only by the hum of the medical monitors, as Little Trizha stood frozen in the doorway.
Her jaw remained dropped, her lips parted in a look of comical, wide-eyed wonder as she stared at the girl in the bed.
It took several seconds of blinking before Trizha finally shook her head, snapping back to her usual, high-energy self.
"You mean a 'nurse'!" Trizha corrected with a confident grin, before her eyes drifted upward to the girl's smooth, bare head.
Her expression shifted into one of deep suspicion. "Also... are you a boy?!"
The girl in the bed froze.
Her face twisted into an exaggerated mask of shock and wounded pride, her pale cheeks flushing a faint, indignant pink as she processed the question.
She looked down at her hospital gown and then back at Trizha, feeling deeply offended by the suggestion that her lack of hair defined her gender.
"I-I'm not a boy!" She protested, her voice rising in a squeaky, defensive pitch. "My name is Wyne! My daddy told me it's a girl name, so that means I'm a girl! A female!"
Trizha went quiet for a moment.
She lifted a hand, thoughtfully brushing an imaginary beard on her chin as she repeated the name in her head.
"Wine... like the red drink the grownups have? Only boys drink that much! So that means you are a boy!"
To emphasize her point, Trizha stepped forward and pointed an accusing index finger directly at Wyne's chest, her grin widening as if she had just solved a grand mystery.
"I just said I'm not!" Wyne huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and sinking back against the pillows.
"Then why are you bald?" Trizha countered, leaning in closer to inspect Wyne's scalp with relentless curiosity. "Many boys are bald! I saw it on the television, so it must be true!"
Wyne groaned, looking at Trizha with a weary, intellectual disdain that was far too advanced for her age. "Do you honestly believe everything you see on a screen?"
"To see is to believe!" Trizha declared, striking a heroic pose.
"T-that's the wrong order!" Wyne stammered, trying to recall her father's lessons. "To believe is to... wait, no, that's not right either..." She trailed off, her brow furrowing as she struggled to find the correct proverb.
Trizha let out a triumphant laugh, pointing her finger again. "See?! I was right! That means you are a... uh... a no-brain boy!"
"It's 'idiot girl' for you!!" Wyne shot back, her voice cracking with frustration.
"Haha!" Trizha didn't seem hurt at all.
She hopped onto her toes, her energy outshining the gloom of the hospital room. "Also, I'm Trizha! And..." She leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You made fun of yourself just now!"
"Ugghh!!" Wyne threw her head back, staring at the ceiling in exasperation. "You are annoyingly arrogant. It's even worse because you offended me beforehand and you don't even care..."
Trizha blinked, the long, complicated words flowing right over her head.
She went still again, her mouth hanging open as she tried to piece together what Wyne had just said.
She leaned in toward the bed, mumbling to herself, though it was loud enough for Wyne to hear.
"This boy is smart..." Trizha whispered in awe.
"Again, I am a girl!!" Wyne shouted, though she let out a small, tired sigh afterward. "And yes, I am smart. I rushed my studies. I learned more words than the other kids because I had to stay here so much."
Trizha tapped her chin again, struggling to find a way to express her confusion. "I'm a bit... uh... what do you call it when y-you can't make the words come out?"
"Speechless," Wyne provided flatly, her gaze drifting back to Trizha. "You meant you were speechless."
"Oh! O-oh..." Trizha nodded vigorously, trying to memorize the new word. "What does speechless mean again?"
Wyne looked at Trizha with a mixture of pity and irritation. "It means you're slow, just like me. Or maybe you just don't know things yet... also, you're not supposed to be in here, you know. This is a restricted floor."
"Huh? Why not?" Trizha asked, puffing out her chest. "I'm a patient too! Mom said so!"
Wyne let out a long, weary sigh, shaking her head.
She looked at Trizha with an irritatingly disappointed expression, the kind of look an older sister gives a sibling who just doesn't understand the rules of the world.
"Being a patient doesn't give you a golden ticket to enter random rooms without consent," Wyne explained, using a tone that sounded remarkably like a doctor's. "Not to mention, this isn't a regular room. Only me and my relatives are allowed to be here."
Trizha went back to caressing her imaginary beard, thinking harder than she ever had in her seven years of life.
Then, a lightbulb seemed to go off. She snapped her fingers loudly.
"Ah-ha! So that makes you a bigger patient!" Trizha exclaimed, proud of her deduction. "It all makes sense now! You're the boss of the patients!"
A single bead of sweat rolled down Wyne's pale forehead.
She looked at Trizha, frustrated that her logic was being dismantled by such chaotic energy.
"You're both right and wrong," Wyne murmured, her voice losing some of its sharp edge. She looked down at the white sheets of her bed, her fingers picking at a loose thread. "But I guess it wouldn't... hurt to tell you why I'm here. Not like it'll change anything."
"Really?" Trizha's eyes lit up. "Do tell! Is it a secret mission?!"
A heavy silence followed.
Wyne's expression shifted, the intellectual mask falling away to reveal a vulnerable, hesitant child.
She bit her lower lip, her gaze fixed on her own hands.
She had rushed to learn so many words, to gain so much knowledge in such a short time, because she knew her time was a resource she was running out of.
She looked up at Trizha, the sunlight from the window highlighting the paleness of her skin.
"I have cancer," Wyne said, the words sounding small and heavy in the quiet room. "I'm a cancer patient."
Trizha's grin didn't fade immediately—not because she was cruel, but because the word meant nothing to her.
She tilted her head, waiting for the punchline or the explanation of what kind of superpower "cancer" gave you.
But as she watched Wyne's eyes well up with a sadness that was far too old for her face, Trizha felt the first chill of a reality she wasn't prepared for.