ed, my first instinct defensive. "You went through my things?" A

n the room. She slammed her other fist on the glass coffee table, the sound making me

, then his eyes fell on the paper in her hand. "Oh, that. I... I found it, Liv. In his room. I was looking for a spare c

confusion. "Leukemia? Ethan, is this some kind of prank? It' s not funny, if

me, but suspicion of me. She thought I was faking it. Faking a terminal illness to gain her sympathy, to disrupt her wedding, t

a... a creative writing class." The lie tasted like poison. But what else could I do? Revealing my

for a prank, Ethan?" She wasn't buying it. Not completely. "We' re going to the hospita

spark of defia

coming with me, Ethan. Now." Th

new I was dying, that this wasn't a game, how would she react? Would that flicker of concern I sometimes thou

Then he turned to Olivia, his expression serious. "Mrs. Hayes... I mean, Ms. Hayes. Ethan is perfectly healthy. A little stress

out a sigh of theatrical relief. "Oh, thank goodne

chips of ice. She' d noticed my pallor, the genuine weakness I couldn't hide. But D