CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE TRUTH IS
“Hey!” Inari’s peppy voice startled Ayla, who’d been at the counter chopping onions entirely too slow.
Frowning, Inari approached the island inside the Blackmoor kitchen and dropped her purse on the counter.
“Hey.” Ayla watched her pull out her laptop and get comfortable. “What are you doing here?”
“Ugh, I had to get out of that auction house. I didn’t want to go home, and we haven’t spent time together in a while.” She went into the large work bag and removed a folder with an itemized list she needed to go over.
Inari noticed that her sister seemed very distracted. She pretended not to watch her as she opened her MacBook. When Ayla gripped the counter like she was trying to steady herself, Inari leaned forward.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Ayla swiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Just tired. It’s been a long day.”
Humming, Inari nodded and her sister went back to chopping more herbs. When she started to sauté garlic and onion, one of her favorite fragrances ever, it suddenly turned her stomach. She rushed to the sink, and Inari could hear theretching before she even stood. Pale and weak, Ayla gripped the counter once again when her sister reached her.
“I’m fine,” she insisted before she could ask.
“You’re obviously not,” Inari replied.
“It’s just… the garlic.” Ayla cupped her hand under the faucet to rinse her mouth out. “It smelled weird.”
Inari glanced at the pan.
“You love the smell of garlic,” she said, folding her arms.
Ayla stiffened.
“How long?” Inari sighed.
“What?”
“How long have you been feeling like this?”
Inari’s voice was calm now. A little too calm as she brushed the tips of her first two fingers across her forehead.
“Just today. I ate this sample at Costco. Maybe that shit got me sick.” Her hand went against her stomach in the black shirt that hung over her slightly rounded lower belly.
Inari studied her, taking in all the small, subtle changes in her sister’s appearance that she hadn’t been around enough to see. Instead of tight joggers, she opted for sweats and unconsciously rested her hand just below her ribs.
“When was your last period?”
Pin-dropping silence echoed.
“Inari—”
“When,” her sister prodded.
“I don’t remember,” Ayla answered. “I had some spotting a few months ago. You know my periods have always been kind of weird.”
Scoffing, Inari dropped her hands at her side and stomped over to the counter. She snatched up her car keys and purse.
“Where are you going?”
“To the pharmacy. I’ll be back.”
