Marc's POV
The first thing I noticed was her voice.
Melody didn't speak like she usually did. Her words came slower. Softer. Like each syllable cost her something. I knew her well enough now to know that she wasn't the type to complain about pain. She'd walk through fire and say she was fine.
But today, she wasn't fine.
She walked into the kitchen with a small smile, trying to act normal, but I wasn't buying it. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. Her shoulders were slightly hunched forward, and she moved like she was balancing something fragile inside her. I was wiping down the counter when she sat down at the stool opposite me.
"Morning," I said.
"Hey," she replied, voice barely above a whisper.
That was all it took. Just one word, and I knew something was off.
"You okay?" I asked casually, watching her face.
She nodded, but her hand gripped the edge of the stool tightly. She looked pale. Not just tired, but pale like she hadn't slept well or was fighting something. Her lips looked dry, and she hadn't even touched the plate of food I had prepared earlier.
"You sure?" I asked again, lowering my voice.
She glanced away and forced a laugh. "Yeah. Just tired."
Liar.
But I didn't push her. Not yet.
Melody was the kin bd of person who had walls made of stone. She let people in only when she had no other choice. Since we reunited, I'd learned to read between the lines. She might say one thing, but her body always told the truth.
She barely touched her tea. She kept her arms folded across her stomach like she was protecting it. Every now
and then, her face would tense like she was bracing for pain.
Then it clicked.
She wasn't just tired. She was sick.
I'd seen it before. Not from her, but from classmates and girls I worked with at the café. The slow movements, the pale skin, the way they curled in on themselves. Period pain. Bad period pain.
I suddenly felt useless. I didn't know what to do. She didn't say it out loud, and I wasn't about to bring it up directly. That would just make things worse.
So I stayed quiet, watching her while pretending I wasn't.
"You want to lie down?" I asked gently.
She hesitated, like the idea was tempting but she didn't want to appear weak.
"I'll be fine," she said.
Another lie.
I went to the cupboard and pulled down a packet of herbal tea I'd seen her reach for before. I boiled water, trying to remember the way she liked it. A little ginger. A splash of honey. Not too hot.
When I handed it to her, she blinked, surprised.
"I figured this might help," I said, keeping my tone easy.
She stared at the cup for a second before taking it. "Thanks, Marc."
Her voice cracked a little, and for a moment, I saw the exhaustion in her eyes. Raw and vulnerable. She took a sip, held the cup close, and leaned slightly against the counter.
The silence stretched between us.
"You don't have to pretend around me," I said quietly.
She looked up, startled.
"I mean it," I added. "Whatever it is... I won't judge you for being human."
She gave a tired smile. "You're too observant."
"I'm your twin. I'm supposed to be."
Her expression shifted. Something soft passed through her eyes. Maybe comfort. Maybe guilt. I wasn't sure. But she didn't argue.
She sipped more of the tea, then set the cup down with a sigh.
"You're not working today?" she asked, changing the subject.
"No," I said. "I told them I needed some time off. Boss was cool with it."
She nodded slowly. "Good. You deserve a break."
"More like you do," I replied.
I watched her try to hide a flinch as she adjusted her seat. She was in pain. Real pain. And for the first time, I realized just how much she was carrying that she never said out loud.
"Melody," I said softly, "why didn't you call me last night?"
She frowned. "Why would I?"
"If you were feeling this bad, I could've helped."
She shook her head gently. "You have your own life. I didn't want to bother you."
I crossed my arms and looked at her directly. "You're never a bother to me. Never."
Her eyes met mine, and for a second, she didn't look like the strong, guarded woman I'd come to admire. She looked like my sister. My real sister. Tired. In pain. Trying too hard to carry everything alone.
"Come on," I said, reaching out. "You should rest. At least for a little while."
"I don't want to go back to the car," she murmured.
"You're not. You're staying here. You don't have to ask."
She hesitated, then gave a small nod.
I helped her up slowly and guided her to the guest room. She didn't resist. That alone told me everything. She was more worn out than she let on.
I pulled the blanket up over her once she lay down, making sure she had her tea beside her. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh.
"I'll be right outside if you need anything," I said.
"Thank you," she whispered.
As I stepped out, I paused by the door, looking back once more. I had no idea how deep she was into this world Marvis came from. I didn't know how much she had hidden. But I knew one thing clearly now:
Whatever she was going through… she wasn't going through it alone anymore.
Not if I had anything to say about it.