At once, the Disease seized triumphantly on those words. If she promised... She had played this game with her siblings, promising to eat and then not doing so. It wasn't that she had done it on purpose -- she had truly meant to eat. This time around, she had no illusions. No, if she promised to eat, she would have to do it.
Of course, such a little thing couldn't save her.
Savannah slumped back in her chair, glancing around as the waitress went through the usual questions with Molly's order. She felt uncomfortable, exposed, as though Molly had made her a big sign that said I'M ANOREXIC, PLEASE FEED ME.
But she knew with a queer certainty that such a sign would only do her good. She needed somebody there to see she started eating again. Molly would be there some of the time. That was the important thing, she remembered, to get back on a normal eating schedule...
But that time, it had been different.
"I don't think I can do it," she said softly, miserable but, at least, honest.