Rila scrambled out of bed to get her mother. A moment later, Qin An'an appeared in the doorway, her hair a mess, a first-aid kit in her hand. “Rila, go sleep with your brother,” Qin An'an said, her voice strained as she saw how sick Fu Shiyin was. Rila nodded, her eyes wide with worry. “Mommy, did Yinyin catch a cold? Should I turn off the AC?” “Fevers have many causes,” Qin An’an replied. “I don’