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Ethan looked at me, and I noticed a certain sadness in his eyes. I felt bad for interrupting our important conversation, but I couldn't just kick Isabela out of my house.

He apologized and slipped into his room, leaving Isabela and me in the living room. My friend looked at me strangely because of his reaction, and I shrugged, blatantly lying that I didn't know what was wrong with him.

My friend asked me to tell her everything that had happened in her absence. I took a deep breath and began my narrative, as it was quite long.

It felt as if I were telling a fantasy story to a little girl because every time I said something, Isabela made facial expressions of astonishment, happiness, sadness, and anger.

When I finished the story, her final expression was one of deep concern.

"How are you feeling?" She tried to reach her hand toward my abdomen.

I lifted my shirt to show her the bandage.

"Better, although I'm still on complete bed rest. I'm dying here, Isa," I made a mockingly terrified f