Twenty-Eight
Dominick
“D
rink this,” I said, holding a glass of wine in front of Kendall.
She wrapped her fingers around the stem and held the drink against her chest, tucking herself in the corner of my couch, where I covered her in a blanket.
She’d been shaking the entire drive to my house, still was by the way the blanket appeared to be moving. At least the tears weren’t running as fast. I hated more than anything to see them. Kendall was strong, resilient. I knew she would get through this.
But I also knew she was hurting something fierce.
Battling a sibling, someone you were supposed to be able to trust, wasn’t easy.
And Daisy had taken things to the next level. That b***h would be the first person to stab Kendall in the back, and she wouldn’t even feel remorseful about it.
I
