DELONIX [COMPLETED]

5. The Half Truth two.

Aunt May folds my clothes carefully, smoothing out every wrinkle before placing them neatly into my suitcase. She insists I bring two-says I won't know what kind of weather to expect where I'm going.

She's been like this ever since Jay reluctantly agreed to her terms-focused, almost obsessive, making sure everything is in place. Like if she keeps moving, keeps packing, she won't have to sit with the reality of what's happening. I watch as she zips the last suitcase shut and slides it beside the door, exhaling like it's a job well done.

"All done." She turns to me with a warm smile, but there's something fragile behind it, like she's holding herself together by a thread. "Are you hungry, sweetie?"

I nod, though my stomach twists at the thought of food. Her smile falters, replaced by concern. "Really? Give me a minute-I'll fix you something." She hurries out of the room before I can say anything, and the second the door clicks shut, I bolt to the bathroom.

I barely make it to the toilet before I'm throwing up, my body violently rejecting everything-food, fear, reality itself. My mind might be adjusting to the fact that I'm not technically human and that I'm being hunted, but my body? It's still catching up.

The acrid smell of vomit turns my stomach even more, and I flush it away immediately, trying not to breathe too deep. My hands grip the cool porcelain of the sink as I lean over it, my pulse thundering in my ears. I turn the faucet on and splash cold water on my face. Once. Twice. Again and again, as if I can drown out the panic clawing its way up my throat.

I swipe my hand over my face, pushing away the water droplets since my towel is already packed. The only things left in the bathroom are my toothbrush, toothpaste, and a small bar of soap sitting beside the sink.

A soft creak from downstairs tells me Aunt May is on her way and I take a deep breath then quickly slip back into the room, moving to the exact same spot on the bed where she last saw me. If she notices anything off, she won't let it go.

Exactly a few seconds later, the door swings open. Aunt May steps inside, balancing a tray in her hands. The scent of instant noodles drifts toward me, warm and familiar, but what catches my attention is the small cupcake beside it.

My brows knit together as I take in the tiny birthday candle perched on top. For a moment, I don't understand why it's there. Then it hits me.

It's still my birthday.

"Figured we should at least acknowledge it." She nudges the tray toward me, and I take it without thinking, my fingers curling around its edges. But my focus stays locked on the candle, on the way the tiny flame flickers and sways, like it's dancing to a rhythm only it can hear. It's almost hypnotic, and for a fleeting second, I let myself enjoy the sight, the small moment of stillness amid all the chaos.

"You should blow it out."

I glance up to find Aunt May smiling at me, her expression gentle, encouraging.

So I do. I take a slow breath and blow. The flame wavers, then disappears, leaving behind a curl of smoke that fades into the air. Aunt May claps, the sound breaking the quiet, and I can't help but chuckle. She's trying so hard to keep things normal, to stay strong for both of us, even when I can see the cracks forming in her resolve.

"I have a gift for you," she says, reaching into her pocket. "I didn't know what to give you since you're leaving this soon and thought of a bigger gift when I decided to visit later today at your college but..."