Alina’s POV
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” I forced out my best sing-song voice as I walked carefully into Chloe’s bedroom holding possibly the worst homemade chocolate cake in existence. I no longer seemed to sleep, so when I suddenly remembered my best friend’s birthday was the next day, which I had completely forgotten in my depressive state, I pulled myself together and spent the early hours of the morning ransacking the kitchen cupboards to bake what I hoped vaguely resembled a birthday cake.
Chloe sat up sleepily in her small bed and pulled up her eye mask, squinting at the morning light.
“Awww, babe! You’re so cute!” she gushed as I set the cake down on her bedside table.
“Make a wish,” I said, wrapping my arms around my body. She tapped her chin with her index
