Page 9 of The Cursed Kingdom

I ignore her. She doesn’t seem to take the hint, though, as her crutches clink together and my mattress dips. If she keeps this up, Iwilldonkey-kick her off the bed.

Her sprained ankle be damned.

“Happy Birthday, Abbs,” Lill continues in a singsong voice. “I made pancakes, and you have to eat them while they’re warm.”

I roll onto my back, my eyes still shut, and open my mouth. If she’s going to wake me up at the butt crack of dawn on my birthday, then she better be prepared to hand-feed me. I want the food placed directly into my mouth, and I’d also like for her to sing Gregorian chants while she does it. I expect the royal treatment on my birthday.

Lill huffs. “Your food is in the dining room. I can’t carry it in here.”

I shut my mouth. She needs both her hands to use her crutches.

“Get up,” Lill orders. She pats along the covers until she finds my knee, and she gives it a tight squeeze. “It’s a quarter past nine, and it’s time to join the world of the living.”

Is it really that late? I recently bought blackout curtains, and they’re effective. Lill could tell me it’s the middle of the night and I’d believe her.

I peek open my left eye and peer at Lill. She’s already dressed in black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, one I’m pretty sure belonged to me at some point. She seems to sense the direction of my thoughts as she subtly turns away, hiding the design on the front.

“These pancakes better be amazing.” I groan, climbing out of bed.

Lill shoots me a venomous look, and I can’t help but laugh. She’s an excellent cook, and she knows it. I sure compliment her food enough, and I’m starting to realize that’s given her a giant ego. I’m happy with that, though. Lill doesn’t have much to get excited about nowadays, and cooking is the one thing she still takes pride in.

I pull on a pair of socks and follow her into the kitchen.

Lill’s made me a birthday breakfast every year since we left for college. Even when we lived in separate dorms, I’d wake up to her barging inside my room with Tupperware containers full of food.

I was usually hungover, and she’d bring the greasiest dishes.

I miss those days.

The smell of cinnamon hits my nose the moment I step out of my room, and my stomach rumbles loudly in response. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, and I’m beyond pleased when I round the kitchen and see a giant plate of fluffy pancakes sitting on the dining table.

My smile grows when I see the person sitting at the table, impatiently staring at the food. Aaron looks up, a strand of his dark-blond hair falling into his eye. He usually keeps it short, but I assume he’s been too busy for a haircut these past few months.

“Aaron!” I say, hurrying forward. I haven’t seen my brother in weeks—he’s been so busy with school. “How are you?”

He laughs, pulling me in for a tight hug. “Happy Birthday, Abbs! I’m good. I have the morning off, and I figured there’s no better way to spend it than with my little sister and her bossy roommate.”

I pull away from his hug, my lips twitching when I notice his shirt is covered in flour. Lill must have bullied him into helping her cook. I love that.

Lill takes a seat, and I do the same.

“How’s work going?” Aaron asks.

I shrug, not wanting to get into it. The topic stresses me out.

“It’s going,” I say, waving a hand to signal it’s not worth discussing. “Tell me what’s new withyou.”

Aaron does. He tells me all about the work he’s been doing, and I pretend to understand when he gets into the details of his thesis. We both pretend not to notice Lill’s rapidly deteriorating health or the fact that she’s only able to eat half a pancake, but I see how his gaze occasionally darts toward her.

He’s concerned, and I’m sure he’ll report this to our parents. They took Lill in after her mother died, accepting parental responsibility and welcoming her into our childhood home without question.

I give it a week at most until they’re trying to host an intervention.

It’s a shame I won’t be here for it. I’m not going to sit around watching Lill wither away and die, even if that means betraying her. It’s become clear that she’s not going to change her mindabout letting me into the faerie realm, nor will she go there herself, so I’m taking matters into my own hands.

She’ll probably hate me for it, but at least she’ll be alive to hate me. I’ll take an angry Lill over a dead one any day of the week.

Aaron asks Lill about her life, and I quickly interject to ask about Mom’s recent skin biopsy. She called me yesterday to tell me the results were negative, but I pretend not to have heard.

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