"What are those?" she asks, looking at the oddly shaped brownies.
"Eli made them." I hold out the plate. "Want one?"
She debates for a second before picking up one of the brownies and taking a bite of it. She barely gets a few chews in and she's flying off the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. I hear her vomit.
"Jesus, are they that bad?" I pick one up and take a bite. They aren't great, but they aren't vomit-inducing, either. I hear the faucet turn on, and Alice comes out a moment later.
"Think I'm still sick," she mumbles, falling back into her bed.
"What did the doctor say?" I ask, remembering we hadn't talked about it last night.
"It will pass."
I place my hand on her forehead to check her temperature, but she feels fine.
"I was going to go to school, but maybe—"
"No, pl
