Her immediate reaction—wanting to go straight to sleep—left me puzzled.
Usually…
Mirella wanted to talk.
Even if it was only to insult my age or complain about whatever torture she believed I’d medically approved that day.
But now…
She was shutting me out.
“Is everything alright, Mirella?”
I studied her carefully.
“You’re more reserved than usual.”
My chest tightened.
“And I don’t like seeing you like this.”
I hesitated.
“Was it something I did?”
Nothing.
She didn’t even look at me.
Her silence made anxiety crawl beneath my skin.
I knew something was wrong.
And apparently…
I was about to become incredibly annoying until she told me what it was.
“Mirella…”
I stepped closer to her bed.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
That finally did it.
She turned toward me wi
