Chapter Forty

Madeline’s POV

My childhood room is so much smaller than I imagined. Quilted stars adorn the sheets of my bed that lurk in the corner illuminated by a single lamp. Cat scratches tattoo each piece of furniture in the room. Glow-in-the-dark stars are stuck on the room’s ceiling like stickers hanging on for dear life. Papers are thumb-nailed to the walls, collages of drawings and poetry a few feet from the floor, displayed for younger me to see.

Wow. Julian really was a nerd.

I’m shoveling through piles and piles of borrowed space books and children’s bedtime stories. All of which were lent to me by my dear cousin. The pages are worn out with time and use, I smile at the flower doodles drawn in between the margins. They’re long and white with petals extending and curling outwards like a peel.

White lilies. Just like the ones Andrew brought me at the hospital.

“Yup,” My mom walks by, “Just keep cleaning out those boxes, it definitely benefits the both of us.”