OLIVIA
"How are you, James?"
My brother rolled his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow, turning away from me. Well, that was answer enough.
I sighed, biting my lips. I'd come straight after lectures, hoping to make up for all the times I barely visited. But he was obviously upset with me.
Still, he looked brighter today, more energetic. Just seeing him like this filled my chest with warmth.
Thank God for Christian Blackwood.
"I'm fine," James grumbled, but his voice was softer than his expression. "But you haven't been visiting me lately. I've missed you."
From the other side of his bed, my mother gave me a knowing look. I told you, her eyes seemed to say.
I sighed, exasperated. It wasn't that I didn't want to see my brother—I would give anything for him to be heal
