CHAPTER 20
THE WEIGHT OF EYES
Betty stayed in the room longer than she should have.
The knock that had come earlier never returned, and no one forced the door open. She took that as the only mercy she was going to get. When she finally stepped outside, the morning light felt like an accusation. Every bruise under her clothes ached with its own memory, and Eva remained quiet but present—a steady, watchful weight against her ribs.
Lisa was waiting at the end of the corridor.
She looked as though she hadn’t slept. The bruises around her own throat had faded to yellow, but the guilt in her eyes was still fresh.
“The Alpha wants you outside,” Lisa said. Her voice was careful. “Training grounds. He said if you refuse, he’ll send someone to bring you.”
Betty didn’t ask why. She already kne
