“Give me the book.”

He looked at his daughter’s hand. She flicked her hand once in an urging gesture. Just when did her smooth hands become so wrinkly? He discovered the flow of time not through the mirror but through his daughter’s hands.

“It’s not like something will happen to me just by reading.”

“I’m saying it because something happened to you already. Give it to me.”

His daughter raised her voice like she was about to fight. His second daughter was a girl who got easily frightened when she was young. She cried when she saw a shadow, cried when she saw a ball rolling towards her, and even cried when her uncles peek-a-booed her. Not a single day went by without her crying, so he once wondered how such a feeble girl would live in this world. Yet right now, the same daughter was forcing him to hand over the book.

“Geez, I said I’m fine.”

“Dad.”

His daughter frowned. The gaze of his daughter, who was past forty now, was quite scary and Moonjoong had no choice but to hand over the book.

“Please lie down. And stop watching the TV as well. Listen to the doctor when he says you need some rest.”

“I know my body the best.”

“And yet you still collapsed?”

His daughter pulled the blanket up to his chest. The hospital blankets had a cold smell. He had intentionally not pulled it up because the smell...