“What time is it?”
I glance at the clock. “Almost nine.”
She collapses back onto the bed. “Oh my god. You could’ve let me sleep.”
“You were sleeping,” I point out. “Loudly. Like, concerningly loudly.”
Lilia peeks at me through one barely open eye. “That’s rude.”
“It’s the truth.”
She mutters something under her breath, then, with all the grace of someone still asleep, she rolls off the bed and onto her feet. She stretches, arms above her head, before shooting me a look. “Alright, let’s go downstairs.”
I hesitate.
“What if your parents are back?” I ask, voice lower than before.
Lilia shrugs, already walking toward the door. “They know you’re here. They’ll love you.”
I’m about to say something, but she doesn’t even give me the chance to argue because one minute she’s right in front of me, the next she’s bounding down the stairs.
With much reluctance, I follow.
As expected, her parents are in the kitchen—smiles and all. Dawn is there too, sitting comfortably at the table and stuffing a blueberry pancake in her mouth.
Lilia slips, heads straight for the table and drops into a chair. She’s already reaching for a plate before her parents can say anything.
“Ooo, extra chocolate for me,” she says, grinning at no one in particular. “Please tell me you bought the Nutella.”
Her dad lifts a new tub from the counter with an expectant smile on his face. She claps once, before yanking the jar toward her and practically hugging it. No one says anything about it. No one blinks at the chaos.
And I hang back. Just inside the doorway, close enough to smell pancakes, far enough to run if I need to.
Her mum notices me first.
“Adeline, dear,” her mum says with a smile, and it’s just like Lilia’s. “Come sit down.”
I glance toward Lilia, hoping she’ll throw me a bone. But she’s elbow-deep in her Nutella pancake. No acknowledgment. Not even a side-eye.
Cool.
I move slowly, not wanting to draw attention, which of course draws more attention. I pull out the chair across from Dawn. She gives me a small, polite nod and cuts her pancake neatly. I sit. My shoulders go up by instinct and don’t come back down.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Adeline. I’m Ruth, this is Mark,” her mum says, gesturing to the man at the other end of the room who I assume is Lilia’s dad. “And Dawn tells me you already met,” she looks at me expectantly, settling at the head of the table.
Her dad hums in agreement, grabbing a blueberry from the bowl in front of him. “Lilia speaks highly of you.”
I side-glance at Lilia, unsure whether to feel surprised or guilty. I don’t know what she’s said. I don’t know what she thinks. She’s still not looking up.
I manage a quiet “Thanks,” but it comes out tight. Weak. Pathetically so. I’m not even sure it’s heard.
Then her mum pushes a plate in front of me.
One pancake. Golden, soft, steam curling from the edges. Blueberries on top.
Arranged in a smiley face.
I stare. Stare at itdumbly.
