Chapter SEVENTY-THREE

Hardin’S POV I walk over to the door of my bedroom with a tray of food in my hand. Yesterday, I had managed to make her get out of the closet and we ate breakfast together, though in dead silence. I know she’s going to throw a tantrum, so the least I can do is bring food for her. I knock at the door and a few moments later, she comes and opens it, dressed up in my clothes which happen to be a pair of shorts and t-shirt. My heart swells up with emotions and I just smile as I walk in. I’m glad that she likes wearing my clothes. She doesn’t say a single word to me as she walks over the bed, but I can see that she looks weak and pale. The fever actually dealt with her last night. “Good morning” I greet “Morning” She mumbles under her breath and I place the tray of food before her on the bed. She’s not throwing a tantrum and I’m freaking out internally. I don’t like the fact that she’s quiet. I want her to scold me for bringing her in here. “You don’t look too well” “I don’t feel too well”