“Your fever is gone, just like that! Do you think it will come back?” my mom says.

“I’m not a doctor, but I don’t think so,” I say. I don’t know why I say it so sarcastically.

I’ve taken a shower, my fever is gone, but I’m grumpy. Then Joey comes in, and I feel a little less annoyed about everything.

“You heard the good news about our quaranteen?” he says to my mom.

“Yes, of course.” She sniffles.

“Now that she’s finally better, you can probably head back to Brooklyn soon like we talked about. I know you need to get back to your brother and nephew.”

“Wait, what?” I say. “You’re leaving already? And when did you guys talk about this?”

“Well, we’ve certainly had ample time to talk while you’ve been asleep.” Joey winks at me.

The wink reminds me of my dad, and now I feel even more annoyed. “You know about Randy too? What else did you guys talk about while I was asleep? Or were you just plotting your escape the entire time?” I look at my mom.

My mom is still sniffling, and she closes her eyes. “Flora, I can’t tell you how hard this has been on me.”

I don’t know why I’m being a pill.

“We were thinking your dad and Goldy could come,” my mom is saying.

“Come where?” I ask, distracted.

“Camp Quarantine!” Joey says. “Or should I say, Camp Hashtag Quaranteen. They’re looking at tickets, just waiting on the okay from us—from you—to buy them.”

“Right, because of course you’ve been in touch with them too,” I say.

Joey either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about my sarcastic tone, because he says, “Sure have. They’re both so relieved your fever is gone.”

“I wish I could stay, Flora, I do,” my mom says.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it. “Just … do you think they need to come?”

“He’s your father. She’s your … stepmom.” She tries to smile, but I can still see the grimace.

“I think I’m mad at him,” I confess.

“You’ll have plenty of time to talk about it when they visit.” Joey’s cheerfulness usually makes me feel better, but now I feel like I don’t want him to know anything else about my family. “And you can find out if they’re Team Kelser or Team Floriver.”

I have no clue what he’s talking about, and I don’t feel like finding out. “When are you planning on heading back?” I ask my mom, changing the subject.

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Not wasting any time, are you?”

My mom studies my face, and I quickly say “Sorry” again.

“You’ll be back in Brooklyn, back home with me, in no time!”

I haven’t been awake long enough to think about Brooklyn, about my life outside this hospital room. Nothing could be further from my mind. “Back in Brooklyn?”

“I know we do have deluxe accommodations and gourmet food, but you can’t stay forever,” Joey jokes.

“I know. I just … I don’t need to stay longer even though I got sick?”

“You were sick already, that’s why you came to the hospital, remember?” Joey says. “Unless you were faking because you wanted to spend more time with Oliver.” I look at him, shocked, but he laughs. “I’m kidding. Speaking of, when you’ve been fever-free for twenty-four hours, we’re going to put you guys back in the same room again.”

“Really?!” I say, more excitedly than I expected. “I mean … that soon?”

“Yep. Since your biggest symptoms were fatigue and a fever and a sore throat with no cough, you have a low risk of spreading any germs.”

“We’ll be roommates again?” I say, still letting the news sink in.

“Together again,” Joey sings, loud and off-key. “Oh, one thing: You’ll have to wear a face mask for the first forty-eight hours you’re in the same room again. But it’ll be long gone by the time you go home in fourteen days.”

“Wow, you’re already counting down the days?” I try to sound like I’m joking, but I know Joey must hear the hurt in my voice.

“Not at all. I’m a numbers kind of guy, especially with my patients.”

His patients. I’m his patient.

“But, hey, still—no kissing Romeo again while you’re here. Not that you would, since he’s spoken for and all.” He winks.

“Right,” I say with tight lips.

“See you later.” He salutes me, then leaves the room.

“Isn’t it great news?” my mom says eagerly. “You’ll be back in your own bedroom before you know it.”

“Yeah, great,” I say, distracted. I’m looking in Oliver’s room.

My mom is watching my face, and I think maybe it will be good to have my mostly oblivious dad and Goldy here.

“So what time is your flight?”

“In the late afternoon, after your second visiting hour. Then your dad and Goldy will be here the next morning!”

I can tell she’s trying to muster some enthusiasm, which I know can’t be easy, so I say, “Cool.”

“You might want to think about looking at your phone, checking out stuff online,” my mom says hesitantly.

“Why?” I’m feeling grumpy again.

“There’s … a lot to catch up on.”

“With what?”

“Well, that hashtag thing of yours really took off!”

“It did? People are still talking about that?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” She hands me my phone, and I look at it for the first time in almost two weeks.

She wasn’t kidding.