My hand, which had been reaching for my mom, froze in mid-air.

I didn't know why, but my nose started to sting.

Grandma seemed to be swallowing her anger.

"It's my fault the dog got burned, I know. But Chloe was in the hospital for two days. She really misses her mom."

Mom hated that Grandma couldn't take a hint.

"They already said she's fine, what more does she want? Can't you see how much my baby is suffering?"

"Maybe to you he's just an animal, but to me, he's more important than anyone!"

Mom came back later that night, the dog all bandaged up.

Through a crack in the door, I watched her change his dressing, her movements incredibly gentle.

She kept wiping away tears.

"I'm so sorry, baby. It's all Mommy's fault. I'm so sorry you had to suffer."

I greedily watched her display of tenderness, fantasizing that I was that little dog.

Suddenly, my mom let out a heart-wrenching sob.

"Baby, what's wrong? Baby? Don't you scare me!"

It turned out the dog's burns had gotten infected, and he was running a high fever.

Fifteen minutes later, my dad rushed home.

So, the distance between the university and our house was only fifteen minutes.

Dad comforted Mom while gently wrapping the dog in a blanket.

Yes, the autumn wind was still chilly tonight.

There was no way they would let their precious dog get cold.

They carefully carried the dog out the door, and neither of them asked if the needle had hurt when I got my shot.

I finally understood.

They were capable of love; they just didn't pour it onto me.

My body felt so cold, and only by snuggling close to Grandma could I feel any warmth.

In the days that followed, I learned to be silent.

Sensing my withdrawal, Mom glanced at me coldly while cuddling her "baby."

"What's the use of raising a kid? It's better to raise a dog. At least a dog is grateful. You can't say the same for people."

I understood her double meaning; she was insulting me, and she was insulting Grandma.

Grandma just held my frail body and sighed, not daring to say anything.

Because my immune system was so weak, I started having frequent allergic reactions.

Grandma took me to the hospital for tests, and the allergen was dog hair.

Mom threw a huge fit, accusing Grandma of being jealous of her love for the dog and trying to find a way to get rid of him.

Grandma showed her the doctor's report, and only after seeing the signature did Mom fall silent.

She refused to get rid of the dog, claiming that I only had allergies because Grandma was coddling me too much.

She said having a dog around would boost my immunity, and I just had to tough it out for a couple of days.

And sure enough, in the following days, my allergic reactions became less frequent, and Grandma finally relaxed.

The truth was, Mom had secretly slipped me two boxes of allergy pills and told me to take one whenever I felt sick.

But the allergy pills were becoming less and less effective.

The next time I had a major reaction, one pill did nothing.

A red rash covered my body, and it became harder and harder to breathe.

I grabbed the pills and popped one after another into my mouth, desperate to get better quickly.

I didn't want to be the cause of another fight between Grandma and Mom.

If it weren't for me, Grandma wouldn't have to put up with so much.

It was all my fault.

I felt dizzy, like I couldn't breathe at all, and looking at the huge red patches on my skin, I started to lose consciousness.