“Emmie?” My childhood nickname. “Honey, I made you some chicken noodle soup. It always made you feel better before.”
Before. Not now. And never again. How exactly did one explain an inexplicable phobic reaction to chicken soup?
“I'm sorry, I can't eat this.”
“Pink is her favorite,” I whisper.
Eve and Maverick slowly turn to look at me.
“What? She wears it all the time, so I noticed.”
“You really do have it bad.”