Chloe’s pov
"I need you to tell me the truth about Nash."
I ambushed Alma the second I couldn’t take the silence, the curiosity was eating me up from the inside out.
Alma was sitting with a basket of mending forgotten in her lap, the afternoon light falling soft through the window behind her chair, and I didn't give myself the chance to lose my nerve before I spoke.
Her needle stilled mid-stitch. She set the basket aside slowly, studying my face like she was deciding how much of the last two days I'd already pieced together on my own, her eyes searching mine for the particular kind of exhaustion that only comes from too many sleepless nights spent chasing an answer.
"I don’t know what you are talking about?”
I shook my head, “No, Alma. I have seen it so please talk to me.” I pleaded
