You know, Aerin, I think you might have misunderstood a few things,” Adela murmurs as she examines my ankle.
I don’t take my gaze away from the bedroom wall since it would take one peek for her to know that I spent most of last night and this morning crying.
If there’s one thing I could do without when I’m already feeling this raw and exposed, it’s criticism or, even worse, judgment.
“Is there another break?” I ask her, pointedly ignoring her comment.
I bet Mack is hanging on every single word downstairs. He probably sent Adela up with a script so he could continue his game of let's fool Aerin. Just because he’s kept his distance since I hobbled back to the house and showered before going straight to bed, it doesn’t mean I trust him. It doesn’t mean anything.
“No, it just looks bruise
