The days back home felt much steadier and more peaceful. The pressure on his shoulders seemed kneaded smooth, the surface of the water rippling now and then but otherwise calm.
The leaves on the old sycamore tree in the neighborhood had all fallen. The clock hands kept turning, and with the New Year approaching, the young people who had gone away for work were coming home one by one, bringing fresh life to the small town.
Morning sunlight spilled through the window, making the leftover water droplets in the sink sparkle. It cast the neat shadows of the table and chairs, then slid across the back of the boy's neck, carrying faint threads of warmth.
Noah held the dumpling wrapper, carefully enclosing the meat filling and pinching out the pleats one section at a time. When he finished and looked, it was still a shapeless mess.
"Why does it still look so bad?" He lifted the lumpy dough that could have been anything from a dumpling to a wonton or a soup bun, feeling helpless.
"You're pinching too lightly, little fool." Evelyn stood behind Noah, leaning down. She took his fingers in hers and guided him hand-over-hand once more. "Your sister didn't say to press too hard, but I didn't say this gently either."
Under her guidance, a neat crescent-shaped dumpling took form. She let go and ruffled his hair. "Try it yourself now. I'll roll out some more wrappers."
"Alright, I'll try."
Making dumplings was a family tradition for the New Year. They always wrapped a big batch to give to the neighbors upstairs and downstairs. When Laura had been busy with work and the family often needed help from the neighborhood, their mother hated taking favors without giving something back. The dumplings had become her way of repaying them.
Now that Noah and Evelyn were grown, they naturally remembered the care those same neighbors had shown them when they were little.
Unfortunately, even after all this time, Noah's dumplings still came out looking pretty terrible.
Once the stack of wrappers on the table was tall enough, Evelyn sat down across from him and began filling and folding them herself.
"Any New Year wishes, Nate?" She looked up at him, chatting casually. "Your sister can help make them come true."
"Wishes… I hope I can pass English and computer level four smoothly, that Mom's job gets a little easier, and… nothing else, I guess."
Noah answered lightly, but as he thought about the things he longed for but couldn't have, a certain idea surged up again. He brought up the sensitive topic in a joking tone. "And if there's more, I wish my sister wouldn't control me so strictly anymore."
Evelyn let out a soft laugh. "Nate, you really have been plotting this. Didn't you go see Professor Emily Brooks at the counseling center before?"
"How did you know?"
"Did you honestly think you could hide it from your sister?" She set down the finished dumpling and suddenly grabbed his wrist. "Just because I don't call you out doesn't mean I don't know, Nate."
"Eve… I didn't tell her anything…"
"So your sister hasn't done anything to you either. But Nate, every bit of my control is something you brought on yourself—because of your repeated rebellions."
Evelyn gripped his hand tightly and lifted it a little higher. "Do you know how badly I want to put handcuffs on you every time another girl holds your hand? Why don't you ever understand who you belong to?"
"Eve, calm down."
"You think I'm not calm right now?" The outer corners of her eyes lifted into a seductive, sinister curve that made Noah's heart pound with fear, his chest tightening violently. "Nate, I'm being completely serious. You'll be good for me, won't you?"
"I… I will."
"Good. After all… your sister wants to be gentler with you too."
Evelyn released his hand. Her expression returned to its usual gentle warmth, the ruthless, obsessive side slipping back behind the mask of the caring older sister. "Get up. The water should be hot enough now. Your sister will wash your hair for you."
"Wash my hair?"
"What else? Don't you want to feel how oily and dirty your hair has gotten? Come here and take off your jacket."
The solar heater wasn't strong enough in winter, so the bathroom water always needed the electric booster. By now the temperature was just right. Evelyn rolled up her sleeves and tested the water herself. "Stand over here. Close your eyes."
"Okay…"
Warm water poured down over his head, soaking through his soft, messy black hair. Once it was thoroughly wet, Evelyn turned off the showerhead and squeezed a few drops of shampoo into her palm.
Noah stood straight in front of her, head lowered, eyes cracked open just a sliver. In that narrow view he could see the slender, graceful stretch of Evelyn's calf where she had rolled up her pant leg, and her fair, delicate foot planted on the floor—the arch forming a perfect soft curve, toes dainty and plush.
"Have you thought about when we should tell Mom about us?" Evelyn suddenly asked.
"I don't know how to bring it up. I'm afraid… Eve, what do you think Mr. and Mrs. Vale would say?"
"What other people think doesn't matter. You're the one who decides. No one can force you on something like this, Nate."
But aren't you always forcing me to cut off contact with other girls… The words rose to his lips but he swallowed them after a moment's hesitation. There was no point in provoking her trigger again.
In any case, he genuinely liked Evelyn.
Even with her excessive, obsessive possessiveness toward him.
His sister's words weren't entirely right. There was one person who both had the right and the power to force him to abandon everything and love her alone—and that was her.
More than ten years of care and devotion were more than enough collateral.
What's more, the most perfect, ultimate image of a partner he had shaped in his heart had always looked exactly like Evelyn.
Evelyn didn't press him for a final answer. After working the shampoo through his hair, she commanded softly, "Close your eyes."
She knew him too well. Even without looking up, she knew Noah's eyes were still open.
The water rushed down, washing away every trace of white foam completely and carefully. Once nothing remained, a soft towel landed on his head and dried his hair.
Then Evelyn pulled him in front of the sink, facing the mirror. The hair dryer hummed with hot air, lifting his still-damp strands. He stood there like an obedient puppet, letting the woman do whatever she wanted.
Once his black hair was completely dry, Evelyn turned off the dryer and looked at his reflection with satisfaction. "See? You look so much more handsome when you're clean. Hm… why the long face? Not satisfied with your sister's service?"
"No." Noah touched the corner of his mouth. The boy in the mirror smiled mechanically. "It's probably just cold. The window's open."
"Really…" She casually closed the bathroom window, then leaned close to his cheek, her exquisite, beautiful face blooming with a seductive, captivating smile. "All better now. So cute… my… little fool, Nate."