Roxie sat in the passenger seat of the borrowed car, her hands folded tight in her lap, staring out at the blur of buildings passing by. Her cheek still burned faintly where her mother’s hand had landed, but the ache in her chest was much worse.
Gosh, Roxie hadn’t known she was still capable of hurting so much where her family was concerned. The pain felt deeper. Raw. Like an open wound she’d been carrying since childhood that had just begun to scab, only for her family to scrape it raw and expose her nerves and muscles without mercy.
The car slowed to a stop at a red light. Benjamin glanced at her. “You okay?”
She nodded, then thought better of it and shook her head. “No. But I will be. Just remind me never to arm wrestle with Mom,” she tried for a joke and gently poked at her cheek w
