Ella
“You don’t have to fuss over me like this,” I protested as Lilith tucked another pillow behind my back. “I’m not dying.”
Not yet, anyway. Technically. Sort of. Maybe that wasn’t the best way to put it.
Lilith had arrived bright and early with a suitcase full of my things—clothes, books, my favorite blanket from home, even my vanilla-scented hand lotion. She’d been buzzing around my hospital room all morning, adjusting the blinds, organizing the nightstand, and making sure I would be comfortable for my stay.
“Nonsense,” she said, smoothing down the blanket. “You need someone looking after you properly.”
“The nurses are doing just fine.”
Lilith scoffed. “Those nurses have twenty other patients. You need someone whose sole focus is you.”
Before I could argue f
