Chapter 12: Moving OnJerome appeared in the doorway, his eyes flashing with annoyance. “A little bird tells me you're discharging yourself – but I just know that can't possibly be right. You wouldn't do anything so stupid.”
Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I suffered a brief flash of annoyance that it was so much shorter – another thing to blame on Archangelo. Bastard. Turning to Jerome, I offered up a faint smile. “Jerome, I'm not sick.” I'd been lying in the hospital tent for five days on his orders, recovering from the drug addiction Archangelo and the Drâghici had forced on me. I huffed in an annoyed breath. Bastards.
Jerome leaned against the cane he'd taken to using, his eyes narrowed. “On the contrary, I'd argue that you most definitely aren't well, Charlotte. At the very least, y
