Time passed by. Mila had helped me sip some soup earlier, spoonful after spoonful, her voice reassuring me that I'd be fine. The warmth should have comforted me, but it barely reached my chest. Even water slid down my throat like stones. She tried so hard to fill the silence with hope, but inside me, everything was hollow.
Then her tone shifted.
"Hey," she murmured, almost too softly, but I heard it. "Can we talk a little? How's Calhoun? I mean… your relationship with him. Has he been nice with you? How's it going?"
The little appetite I had vanished instantly. The half-finished soup suddenly tasted bitter on my tongue. My chest tightened so painfully I thought I'd choke on air. I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away, acting as though her question meant nothing.
"He's been gre
