Zaiden's brows furrowed with that all-too-familiar impatience. I looked up, meeting his gaze.
"Do you really think I'm just being petty? Jealous?"
I could deal with my feelings being brushed off, but I couldn't stand being dismissed and then blamed for it.
Zaiden said nothing.
Neither did I.
Maybe I was being naive—I already knew the answer, but I had to ask anyway. I waved him off, my voice cool. "I'm going to bed."
As I turned, I added, "And don't expect any more late-night snacks from me."
The next day, right on cue, a message from Mila came in.
"Kataleya, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I hope you weren't too upset."
It was like Zaiden had an endless list of things to talk about with her.
I shot back, "Mila, cut the act. We both know what's going on."
I didn't wait for a reply, dropping my phone as I left the room. That's when I caught Zaiden's voice, talking to his mom, Margaret.
"Mom, Kataleya's health is getting worse. Please, just ask Mila to be patient a little longer..."
It felt like a giant fist clenched around my heart.
What does he mean?
He knew. He'd known all along.
I was getting worse.
