19
Elle
Days Later
I wake up to the sound of Second Avenue traffic. Ah, sweet music. Yawning, I slog myself to the kitchen. There’s no sign of Dad. Huh. Normally, he’s up by now. I walk around our apartment. No sign of anyone.
I’m about to knock on my parent’s door when Dad steps out of their bedroom. His eyes are rimmed with tears.
“How is she?” I ask.
“Let’s talk in the kitchen.”
The world takes on a dream-like gleam. I sleepwalk into the kitchen. Once we’re there, Dad leans against the counter. He grips the countertop like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.
“Your mother is getting worse. I have to make plans.” He sighs. “And you don’t like Marchesa and her daughters.”
A chill crawls up my neck. This is it. The moment I’ve dreaded. It’s really here.
I swallow past the lum
