BELLA
I pushed the door to his ward open and stepped inside.
Caleb’s eyes were shut at first, but they fluttered open slowly. When he saw me, they widened in surprise, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. “Are you here because your conscience is bothering you?”
I let out a shocked laugh. “Are you out of your mind?” I snapped. “What on earth would I feel guilty about?”
He attempted to sit up, wincing and groaning as pain shot through him. I stood back and watched, unmoved, as he struggled, making no move to help.
“My brother beat me up,” he said, his jaw tightening, “all because I accidentally bruised you. And that wasn’t enough, he went on to accuse me of messing up your supplies. Three days in the hospital, and now you ask why you should feel guilty?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You m
