My whole body ached under the 39.5°C fever. My throat felt torn raw, my head throbbed as if it would split, and a high, piercing ringing filled my ears. I pulled the blanket up and tried to sleep, hoping for even a little relief.

The dreams were heavy—like wading through mud while unseen hands dragged me down. Then freezing water hit my face. I gasped, shot upright, and forced my eyes open. A figure loomed at the bedside.

— Still lying in bed?! — a sharp, rasping voice cut through the ringing in my ears.

It was my mother-in-law. Her face was hard, lips pressed thin, fists clenched. She looked at me as if I’d done something shameful.

— Get up! — she barked. — Guests will be here in one hour! Everything must be spotless! Clean, prepare the food! Don’t laze around like a useless child!

I tried to answer, but my strength had gone. I managed only to sit up, shivering, wiping the icy water from my face.

— Mom… my fever’s 39.5°C… I can’t even hold my head straight… — my words barely came out.

She brushed me off.

— Oh, stop complaining! Everyone gets sick. I worked even when I was ill! Don’t you dare humiliate me in front of people!

Her tone wasn’t merely harsh — it was cold, the same cruelty as the water. Something inside me finally snapped.

I forced myself to stand, legs trembling, the room tilting. I walked past her without a word, picked up the phone, and dialed 911 while she watched.

— Hello, ambulance? I’m very sick… fever nearly 40°C, weakness, throat pain, splitting headache… yes, the address is…

She snapped at me:

— What are you doing? Guests will arrive in an hour!

— They’re your guests. I have a dangerous fever. And this is my apartment, — I said for the first time firmly, without apology.

She muttered and paced the kitchen, calling me an “insane daughter-in-law.” But when the ambulance arrived twenty minutes later, I was ready. The doctor checked me, read the thermometer, peered into my throat, and said:

— You’re going straight to the hospital. This is severe.

I put on my jacket. Before I stepped out the door, I looked at her.

— When I return, both you and your guests will be gone. And you will never set foot in here again without my consent.

She opened her mouth to argue, but I shut the door behind me.