Lila's mother gave her a once-over, her smile faltering slightly. "You've lost weight." Her fingers brushed against Lila's cheek as if checking for fever. "And you look pale, honey. Are you eating properly?"
Lila opened her mouth, but before she could respond, another voice cut in.
"Oh, she's not okay."
Lora leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed, watching her with a knowing smirk.
Lila exhaled, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Lora, can you stop?"
Lora scoffed. "Stop what?"
Margaret waved a hand. "Oh, hush, Lora. Let your sister breathe." She grabbed Lila's hand, pulling her toward the dining table. "Come, sit. I made all your favourites. You'll feel better after a warm meal."
Lila allowed herself to be guided to the table, but the moment she saw the plate of steaming casserole in front of her, her stomach turned.