Arielle’s POV
“Arielle, hand me that box,” Mom called out with her usual light smile.
I picked it up from the counter and walked it over to her, returning the smile even though my chest felt tight again.
“How do you find our new home?” she asked in her soft and hopeful voice.
“It’s perfect,” I said quickly before turning away as a cough forced its way up my throat.
“You still have that cough?” she asked, watching me closely as I moved my hand away from my mouth and saw the tiny smear of red on my palm.
“Yes,” I whispered, forcing the word out.
“You have to see a doctor, dear.”
“I will, Mom.”
I didn’t wait for the conversation to continue. I rushed straight to the bathroom and locked the door behind me.
The second I faced the mirror, my breath caught.
Seven years.
Seven years o
