Chapter 5

Back home, the living room still had that cold, desolate look.

My mom placed the newspapers on the coffee table, then walked into the kitchen.

A moment later, she came out with a bowl of noodles.

a bowl of plain, watery oatmeal, utterly bland, without a hint of flavor or richness.

"Eat," she placed the noodles in front of me.

I looked at the bowl of noodles, my stomach churning.

Odd days meant vegetarian, even days meant meat.

Today was the third, an odd day.

I was Maya.

Maya was a sinner, unworthy of meat.

I picked up my fork, speared a noodle, and put it in my mouth.

No taste.

Like chewing on cardboard.

I forced myself to swallow, suppressing the nausea, and finished the bowl of noodles.

My mom sat opposite me, watching me the whole time.

"You didn't take your medicine today," she suddenly said.

My hand, holding the fork, paused.

"I forgot."

"Lily can't forget her medicine."

"Today I'm Maya." I looked up, meeting her eyes.

She froze for a moment.

"Maya," she repeated the name, her gaze slowly turning cold. "Why doesn't Maya just die?"

My heart clenched.