Zaiden's brows furrowed with that all-too-familiar impatience. I looked up, meeting his gaze.

"Do you really think I'm just being petty? Jealous?"

I could deal with my feelings being brushed off, but I couldn't stand being dismissed and then blamed for it.

Zaiden said nothing.

Neither did I.

Maybe I was being naive—I already knew the answer, but I had to ask anyway. I waved him off, my voice cool. "I'm going to bed."

As I turned, I added, "And don't expect any more late-night snacks from me."

The next day, right on cue, a message from Mila came in.

"Kataleya, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I hope you weren't too upset."

It was like Zaiden had an endless list of things to talk about with her.

I shot back, "Mila, cut the act. We both know what's going on."

I didn't wait for a reply, dropping my phone as I left the room. That's when I caught Zaiden's voice, talking to his mom, Margaret.

"Mom, Kataleya's health is getting worse. Please, just ask Mila to be patient a little longer..."

It felt like a giant fist clenched around my heart.

What does he mean?

He knew. He'd known all along.

I was getting worse.