29

Elita

Nothing comes out of the dramatics.

I always knew that.

But never understood it until this moment.

“ I told you…you are not dying. ” Dustin says, his eyes drilling holes in the side of my head.

I eye the bowl of soup in the tray placed on my lap and pretend that it’s the most important thing in the world. What else can be important right now, anyway?

Without saying anything, I grab the spoon in my trembling hand, scoop the soup, and shove it in my mouth.

“ So, Elita Folke, its’ time. Why don’t you start talking? ” He leans back in the chair he is sitting on, right beside my bed, to make me feel how close he is.

I choke on the soup, coughing wildly. The spoon slips from my fingers and drops into the bowl.

My heart is about to explode. It’s better this way. It should explode, and I should die.

“ Are you dying again? ” Dustin blinks, his face still blank.

I stop coughing. Apparently, this choking act doesn’t work on him.

“ What are you— ” I swallow, daring to steal a glance his w