[FLASHBACK]
The young Zoren stood by the door, his eyes fixed on the bed where a woman was lying down. She had her back facing him, her shoulders trembling every once in a while.
"Mama," he called, catching her shoulder flinch. "Are you crying?"
The woman didn't respond, pulling the sheet over her shoulder. A shallow breath slipped past Zoren's nostrils, but then he felt a hand land on top of his head. Looking up, all he saw was a man with a kind look on his face, gazing down at him.
"Zoren, your mother is not feeling well," he said, reaching for the doorknob and then squatting down to his son's eye level. "She's resting for a little while until she recovers her strength. So, until then, don't come too close to her, so you don't get sick as well."
Zoren stared into the man's eyes, letting him stroke his hair with that smile on his face. "Why is she sick?"
"Hmm?"
"Why is Mama sick?"
