The Hollows In Our Freedom | 'Hollows' Book Ⅲ

Chapter Seventy-One

happy Mother's Day !! 🌸👄🧚🏼‍♀️

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T h e   H o l l o w s   I n
O U R  F R E E D O M
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S K Y

It had been ten days since the intruder had painted their death list on our wall in blood red paint. I knew this without looking at a calendar because I had been sick ten times, and I had been sick every day since the day of the death list.

It hadn't been noticed by anyone but my Guardians, well, used-to-be Guardians—Alexi and Jameson. My mum had also noticed, but didn't really say much—she only ever asked if I was okay.

I thought maybe I was sick, very sick. The only conclusion I could come to that wasn't too bad was food poisoning but, even then, I was only sick maybe once a day—every day.

I didn't want to tell Alexi and Jameson that I was sick; I didn't want to worry them.

I also didn't want to think of any alternatives. I was too frightened to know the truth, but I wanted to eliminate explanations that scared me—it was a vicious cycle.

We had been inviting more and more allies into our now full home over the past ten days, and I tried to be present every time they arrived, but there were still a few that crept by me, unnoticed. Because I was sick.

We had welcomed Owen Everon, who had tried to talk with me, but I was busy being sick; Kai Marshall also lived here now, but I only saw him for a brief moment before I had to excuse myself to, guess what, be sick. Another new entry was Jack Storrey, Jameson's old friend who worked with motorbikes and got together our getaway car; I haven't actually greeted him yet—I was being sick.

I wiped at my lips before flushing the toilet and cleaning my mouth out with mouthwash. I washed around my mouth before spraying the toilet down. I had created a routine out of this. This was my eleventh day.

I hated keeping secrets; I really wasn't the type. I only ever did it to protect others and rarely myself. I was doing it this time for both reasons—I was scared, so I was protecting myself, and I didn't want to make everyone else scared, so I protected them, too.

Someone knocked at the door suddenly, startling me. I steadied myself against the bathroom sink, feeling nauseous once more.

I cleared my throat, "Yes?"

"Didn't you get my text?" My mum asked through the wood of the door.

I swallowed the water I was drinking, "Uh, no, sorry."

"Well there's a meeting downstairs right now; we're deciding on our next steps." She told me, waiting for my response.

"Sky?" She asked after a few moments, which I spent brushing through my hair and powdering my face.

"Yeah, sorry, just a moment!" I called to her, before drinking more water and spraying myself. I leaned over the toilet to open the window, letting fresh air in.

I checked my reflection once more before unlocking the door and opening it, revealing my mum leaning against the frame.

Her eyes scanned my face. She immediately frowned, "You look pale, Sky, are you okay?" She asked, her eyes tight with concern.

"Yeah," I said, brushing my hair out from my face, "absolutely fine." I followed this up by brushing past her, except I seemed to be tilting over slightly.