It seemed I was the only one who noticed something was wrong. And yet that sense of wrongness felt like nothing more than an illusion.
Nothing had changed. It was just that, by some strange coincidence, every child had gone quiet at that very second.
I couldn't find any evidence. I hadn't seen anything change in an unusual way, but I couldn't deny that strange feeling I'd had in that moment.
"Xixi, give Mommy your toys. It's time to put them away."
I turned around, reluctant.
"I still want to play. I want to play with Big Sis," I said, pouting.
The girl across from me didn't say anything. She just gazed at Mommy with her big eyes.
"We have to go now," Mommy said helplessly. "I'll help you get changed."
"No, no, no..." I cried, feeling wronged.
I grabbed the girl's hand, and we immediately hugged each other, neither of us wanting to part.
Both sets of parents looked helpless. The other parents watched the commotion, finding the children adorable.
Dad soon came back with the medical records. Seeing what was happening, he asked what was going on and then laughed helplessly when he found out.
"Let's go home for today and come visit Big Sis again tomorrow, okay?" Dad said, stroking my head.
"Tomorrow?" I asked, feeling wronged.
"Mm. We'll come tomorrow. You can bring one of your dolls from home, too. Don't you have a doll with golden hair?" Dad said.
I thought it over, then nodded reluctantly.
"Did you finish the discharge paperwork?"
"Not yet. There's one form missing. See if it's in your bag. It's for the medicine they prescribed after the operation a couple of days ago..."
Mom and Dad began talking, searching through the things they'd just packed up.
I still hadn't let