My Last Seven Days On Earth Started With A Broken Promise Chapter 02

My Last Seven Days On Earth Started With A Broken Promise Chapter 02

The cemetery sat at the edge of town, and the cold out there had teeth.

I laid the white lilies I’d brought in front of their headstones.

In the photographs, they were smiling. The same warm, easy smiles they’d worn the day they brought me home.

“Mom, Dad. It’s Mari. I’m here.”

I crouched down and wiped the grime off the stones with my sleeve.

“Graham couldn’t make it this year. He’s busy.”

“But it’s okay. I probably won’t get another chance to come anyway.”

The rain came down harder, streaming through my hair and under my collar until the cold reached my bones.

Ten years in the human world, and I’d almost forgotten that my kind doesn’t generate our own body heat.

My legs went numb before I finally grabbed the headstone and pulled myself up.

By the time I made it back to the house, the sky was nearly dark.

Every window was lit, and laughter bled through the glass.

I opened the door.

The warmth hit me like a wall, but none of it reached me.

The coffee table was buried under gift boxes.

Tessa sat dead center on the sofa, wearing a glittering princess tiara.

“Mari! You’re back!”

She jumped up and reached for my hand.

But the second her fingers touched my soaked sleeve, she flinched back like she’d been scalded.

“Oh my God, you’re soaking wet!”

Reid looked over at the commotion. The second he saw me dripping onto the hardwood, his face hardened.

“You didn’t think to bring an umbrella? What, you wanted to show up looking pathetic on purpose?”

He didn’t get me a towel. Didn’t even move.

He just stood in front of Tessa, like I was something she might catch.

“I didn’t have one.”

I kicked off my soaked shoes and headed for the kitchen.

The second wish in my notebook: eat Graham’s brown-sugar-glazed ribs.

Whenever I was sick or sad, Graham used to go straight to the kitchen.

He always said the same thing: give Mari something sweet and the sadness wouldn’t stand a chance.

The second I pushed open the kitchen door, the smell hit me. Sweet, tangy, warm.

Graham was lifting a plate of ribs off the counter, fresh from the oven.

The glaze caught the light, dark and sticky and perfect.

My empty stomach clenched.

“Graham… are those for me?”

My voice came out raw. I reached for the plate.

The smack came out of nowhere.

Graham pivoted, the plate safe in one hand, and swatted my fingers away with the other.

The back of my hand flared red.

“Don’t touch those.”

His voice could have frosted glass.

“Tessa nailed her interview today. These are for her.”

“You’re the one who insisted on going out in the rain. So don’t come back dripping wet and expect me to feed you.”

I stood there, staring at the red mark on my hand.

It hurt.

But somehow, this body couldn’t feel anything past that one small sting.

“Graham, I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“My stomach really hurts.”

I searched his face for anything, any trace of who he used to be.

He wouldn’t look at me.

He walked past me with the plate, tossing the words over his shoulder.

“Make your own food if you’re hungry. You’re a grown woman. Stop expecting everyone to baby you.”

From the living room, Tessa’s voice lit up.

“Oh my God, Graham! Brown-sugar-glazed ribs? You’re the best!”

I stood in the kitchen, pulled out my notebook, and crossed off the second wish.

I ordered delivery. A plain bowl of chicken noodle soup.

I carried it to the far end of the dining table and ate in silence.

A plate of raw, wet lettuce slid in front of me out of nowhere.

Broth sloshed out of my bowl and scalded my wrist.

Nolan dropped into the chair beside me, arms folded, watching.

“Eat up. Isn’t this what lunar spirits live on?”

The smirk on his face didn’t match his eyes. Those were dead serious.

Across the room, Reid and Graham were cutting cake for Tessa.

Nobody looked our way.

I set down my fork and looked at the lettuce.

It hadn’t even been washed properly.

“Do you really have to do this?”

“Humiliate you?”

He let out a short laugh and leaned in.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Marielle. You’re the one who made us sit through that lunar spirit sob story.”

“You got so jealous of Tessa you pulled out some fairy tale about the Moon Lady dragging you back to the Moon Court. You thought we’d buy that?”

“You want to keep up the act? Fine. We’ll play.”

He stabbed a leaf with his fork and held it to my mouth.

“Eat.”

I stared at the leaf. I didn’t fight it.

I opened my mouth and swallowed.

The leaves were bitter and gritty with dirt, and my stomach turned the second they hit.

I kept eating. Leaf after leaf.

Halfway through the plate, my stomach seized.

Nausea surged up my throat.

I shoved my chair back and ran for the bathroom.

Everything came back up.

The soup, the leaves, nothing but bile and acid into the bowl.

Tears streaked down my face before I could stop them.

Nolan’s voice drifted through the door, bored.

“Way to kill the vibe. You can’t even keep down a few leaves? What are you, made of glass?”

I flushed. Watched it all swirl away.

I gripped the edge of the sink and forced myself to look in the mirror.

Bloodshot eyes. A face drained of every drop of color.

Celeste was right. Humans are heartless.

The second they stop loving you, even the way you breathe becomes a problem.