Reese
Ada is deathly pale when I gently lay her down on the bed. I take a moment to appreciate her breathtaking beauty. She has not spoken a word when I carried her to the room and it is clear to me it is because she is fighting her tears.
“Ada,” I say softly as I go sit next to her. “Be honest, is it just the pain or is there something else?”
“Just the pain,” she croaks through closed eyelids. “Promise.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Zoe hands me a glass of water and two pills. “Ada never misuses the word promise. She doesn’t use it often, but when she does, you can take it to the bank.”
“Good to know,” I smile. “Lift her a bit, please.”
Zoe goes sits down next to Ada on the other side and lifts her shoulders.
“Here are your pills,” I say softly.
Ada opens her eyes and takes the pill
