Liam
All through the ride to the courthouse, I could feel the tension in the car, thick enough to cut with a knife. I knew everyone was on edge thanks to my current mood—especially Lyra, who had almost plastered herself against the door in her bid to put as much space between us as was possible in the backseat of the car. She was still pale and shaky, arms tightly wrapped around her body, as though she were trying to physically hold herself together, staring out the window with an almost dazed expression.
She raised an arm to brush off hair from her face and my eyes zeroed in on the circle of bright red bruising on her wrist. I looked away, trying to ignore the fission of guilt that stirred in my gut upon seeing the damning evidence of how rough I’d handled her earlier in my anger.
You
