Penelope's POV

I stayed in bed for five days now , feeling like someone ripped half my soul away and left me to bleed out slowly.

Mom keeps bringing me food I can't taste and tea that might as well be water. "Sweetheart, you need to eat something," she says softly, setting another untouched tray on my nightstand.

"I'm not hungry," I mumble into my pillow, not bothering to turn over.

"The rejection pain will fade," she continues, sitting on the edge of my bed. "I know it doesn't feel like it ...