“Why haven’t you told me?” Her voice is brittle and so fucking sad, it cuts me open.
“Told you what?”
“That you’re sick. You’re dying?” She all but bursts out crying, her tiny frame shaking, her choked breathing filling the air.
Ilya steps out of the car next, looking absolutely calm.
“I’m dying?” I mouth.
“I had to do something. It’s boring to watch whatever foreplay this is.”
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