"You're not supposed to be here." Margaux sounded low yet irritated when she spoke. With her lips tight and eyebrows furrowed, she watched Alberta walk across her room and place a food tray on her bedside table. "Didn't I order you to call Rome—"
"He rejected."
Then there was that deafening silence again when Margaux ran out of words to say, scraping her ears like what happened in the treehouse was only yesterday.
It had been a week since. The bruises in her feet were beginning to heal. Some doctor visits, some painkillers, a little bed rest, and she was back to being as healthy as a bull. Her heart didn't cope as well with that healing, though. And maybe it wouldn't until she sees him again.
"You need to eat, Margaux." Alberta shot her a glimpse, pausing a little from arranging he
