“Don’t worry, really,” I said, my voice coming out hoarse. “I’m a little bit emotional, that was all. Nothing happened to me.”
“Come here.” She tugged me gently toward the small alcove where the linens were stored. The moment we were out of sight, she pulled me into a quick, fierce hug. I stiffened at first—touch wasn’t something I trusted easily anymore—but then the dam really broke, and I sagged against her, clutching the back of her apron.
Why am I crying? I don’t understand what made me break like this.
While I was in Black Fang, I got used to mean comments, to people cussing at me, to slaps, and even punches.
They had to be careful because I was still a minor and they couldn’t leave that many marks, but they still wanted to take out their anger somehow, and so, they hit me.
O
