Finding Elora

Chapter 3

ABBY

My bedroom door creaks open, alerting me to Lill's presence, and I groan and shove my face into my pillow.

There's a quiet clicking as she uses her crutches to approach my bed, and I scoot away in a sad attempt to evade her. Weekends are for sleeping in, she knows that, and that's precisely what I'm planning to spend my morning doing.

"Abby," Lill coos.

I ignore her. She doesn't seem to take the hint, and a second later, her crutches clink together and my mattress dips. If she keeps this up, I'm going to donkey kick her off the bed.

Her sprained ankle be damned.

"Happy birthday," Lill continues, speaking in a sing-song voice. "I made you french toast."

I roll onto my back, my eyes still shut, and open my mouth. If she's going to force me to be awake and eat, then she's going to hand-feed me. I want the food placed directly into my mouth, and I'd also like for her to sing Gregorian chants while she does it.

I want the royal treatment on my birthday.

Lill huffs. "How the hell do you expect me to carry your food in here?"

I shut my mouth, realizing she has a good point. She needs both her hands to use her crutches.

"Get up and eat," Lill orders. She pats along the covers until she finds my knee, and she gives it a tight squeeze. "I let you sleep in until ten, but now it's time to join the world of the living."

Is it ten already? I recently bought blackout curtains, and they make it impossible to tell the time. You could tell me it was the middle of the night and I'd believe you, and I find myself sleeping in later and later now that the sun doesn't stream into my room.

I peek open my left eye and turn to peer at Lill. She's already dressed for the day in black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, one I'm pretty sure belonged to me at one point. Lill seems to notice my gaze as she subtly turns away, hiding the design on the front.

She's always stealing my things.

I let out a loud yawn before forcing myself into an upright position. Lill uses her crutches to stand before pulling open my blackout curtains and letting in the light.

I wince.

She really wasn't lying about the time. It's bright as fuck outside.

"This french toast better be amazing," I groan, climbing out of bed.

Lill shoots me a venomous look, and I can't help but laugh. She's an excellent cook, and she knows I know it. I sure compliment her food enough, and I'm starting to realize that's given her a giant ego. I'm happy with it, though. Lill doesn't have much to get excited about nowadays, and cooking is the one thing she still takes pride in.

I pull some socks on before following Lill into the kitchen.

The smell of cinnamon fills my nose the moment I step out of my room, and my stomach rumbles loudly in response. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, and I'm pleased when I round the kitchen and see a giant full plate sitting on the counter.

There's a smaller plate next to it with only one french toast, and I press my lips together as I eye it.

Lill doesn't have much of an appetite, and I hate seeing just how little she eats. Her body can't handle all the calories, and I have a feeling if it weren't for me, she'd stop eating altogether. Food almost always gives her a stomach ache, but she needs it even if it hurts.

I grab both our plates and carry them to the small dining table. Lill collapses in her seat, her chest heaving from walking all the way from my bedroom to the dining room. I'm sure standing in front of the stove to cook all this food took it out of her, but telling her not to would've been useless.