“Oh, it’s you,” Emma said as I burst through the door, my hands filled with a cake topped with eighteen candles.

“Oh, thanks. I feel so wanted,” I replied dryly, patience already beginning to evaporate. I was never the person she wanted to see.

“It’s just…”

“Just what?” I said, not really listening, too preoccupied with pulling up a table in her room. “Want a slice?”

“No.”

“It’s your birthday. You have to. I made it specially.”

“I thought you were someone else,” she said, staring at the door pathetically. “I was waiting for Jed.”

I froze in shock. I thought she was over this.
“Jed?” I squeak, before calming my overactive vocal chords. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she replied faintly, still staring at that door. “He said he’d visit me.”

“Emma.” I ran my hand through my hair in exasperation. Do I really have to explain this again?
“Emma, Jed isn’t coming. Ever.”

“Why?” She suddenly looked at me with her big blue eyes. I knew what I said would break her.

“He’s dead, Emma. You killed him.”