Morning arrived with rules.
I knew this because my mother was already awake.
She stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, staring at her phone like it had personally betrayed her.
"…You're really serious about this," she said.
"Yes," I replied.
She shook the phone slightly. "No calls. No messages. No posting."
"Yes."
"…Not even to my best friend?"
"No."
"…She thinks I'm dead."
"That is acceptable," I said.
Ha-rin shuffled out of her room, hair messy, oversized hoodie on, eyes half-open.
"…Why does it feel like I walked into a hostage situation."
"You're awake," my mother said brightly. "Good. Sit."
"I just woke up."
"Sit."
Ha-rin sat.
My father sipped tea quietly, watching like this was entertainment.
"Breakfast," my mother announced.
She placed a bowl in front of Ha-rin.
Ha-rin stared at it.
"…This is a lot."
"You're eating for two," my mother said.
Ha-rin choked.
"I AM NOT—!"
I coughed.
My mother smiled sweetly.
"…Eating well," she corrected.
Ha-rin glared at me.
"…You're the reason she almost said it."
"That is accurate," I replied.
Ha-rin poked the food suspiciously.
"…If I eat all this, I'll throw up."
"Then eat slowly," my mother said. "No rushing."
Ha-rin paused.
"…You're weirdly gentle."
"I am selective," my mother replied.
After breakfast, Ha-rin stood up.
"…I need fresh air."
My mother turned slowly.
"No."
"…Excuse me?"
"No going outside alone."
Ha-rin stared.
"…I'm not a child."
"You're pregnant," my mother replied calmly. "Children are optional."
Ha-rin turned to me.
"…You did this."
"This is containment," I said.
"…I hate containment."
"Yes."
She crossed her arms.
"…Then come with me."
I paused.
"That is reasonable."
My mother raised an eyebrow.
"And me?"
"You," I said, "stay."
She gasped. "You're enforcing it already?"
"Yes."
My father leaned back. "He's efficient."
Ha-rin grabbed a cap and mask, then stopped.
"…Wait."
She turned back.
"…If this is 'normal,' why does it feel like I'm sneaking out."
"Because," I replied, "normal has changed."
She stared at me.
"…You say scary things so calmly."
"I am adapting."
In the hallway, she exhaled slowly.
"…Okay. Just a short walk."
She took two steps, then stopped.
"…Why are you walking exactly half a step behind me."
"This maintains awareness without crowding."
"…That's creepy."
"I will move one step back."
"Better."
They passed a convenience store.
"…I want juice," she said.
"Yes."
"…Strawberry."
"Yes."
She blinked.
"…You didn't argue."
"There is no reason to."
She looked away, cheeks warm.
"…Don't get used to it."
"I won't," I replied.
Back at the apartment, my mother stood by the door like a guard.
"You took twelve minutes," she said.
"That was efficient," I replied.
"…You're both alive," she added. "Good."
Ha-rin sighed.
"…This is going to take a while."
I watched her walk back inside.
Normal.
This was supposed to be normal.
Something told me it wouldn't be.