Hannah’s bare feet pounded against the floor. “It must be the pizza delivery guy.” “It is unbelievable how much you've eaten lately,” Lydia murmured, as she rested on the couch. Her face was pale and gaunt. Her eyes, which had once sparkled with life, appeared dull and fatigued. “Every time I turn around you've got something shoved in your mouth. Do you have a tapeworm or something?” Hannah pushed out her lower lip, as she reached for the front door. “I just wanted to have pizza. Is there something unusual about ordering pizza?” Lydia stared at her wide-eyed, and shook her head in disbelief. “You had a double cheeseburger with fries, onion rings, and a banana milk shake as a mid-afternoon snack two hours ago. Now you’re going to have pizza with ham, pineapple, jalapeno peppers, and anchovies? You hate fish, and I have never heard of a more disgusting combination.” “I do not hate fish, and I asked for Canadian bacon, not ham.” Lydia laughed weakly. “You don’t have a tapeworm; you have a pregnant tapeworm with really bad taste.”
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