Alice’s POV:
Rolling my shirt up, I pressed the warm egg against my bruising stomach. Attempting to even my breath, I leaned my head back to look at the ceiling.
“Don’t cry, Alice. You’ll be okay,” I mumbled.
A low knock caught my attention. Holding a hand against the railing of my bed, I stood up, rolled my shirt down, breath harden as I limped towards the door.
Cracking it open, he stood there, eyes flat on the carpet. He pushed the door but didn’t step inside. He held my shirt and lifted it to reveal the red and purple bruise.
I smiled at him as he drops my shirt. “Welcome back, dad.”
He placed a hand on my head, causing me to freeze. My breath shook as he stroked my hair. “What happened?”
I bite my trembling lips, “I fell down the stairs.”
He nodded, stroking my wet chee
