Eva

Six hours ago...

Standing beside Thelma in our cozy kitchen, I methodically chopped vegetables for dinner. The tantalizing aroma of sautéed ginger usually filled me with warmth and comfort, but today it was suffocating. I covered my nose, scrunching my face in disgust.

"Thelma," I choked out, "I...I don't know what's wrong. This smell is nauseating."

She turned to me, her brow creased with concern. "Eva, are you alright? You normally love the smell of ginger."

I shook my head, a wave of nausea washing over me. "I don't know. It just...ugh."

Before Thelma could respond, I bolted out of the kitchen, my hand clamped over my mouth. I...