Having spent nineteen years of her life, Freya realized that, except for her first kiss not given to him, every significant moment had involved him. What more could he ask of her?
His hands rested on either side of her body, causing the IV needle to shift slightly. Crimson blood flowed back through the tube, emitting a faint rust-like smell into the air.
Meeting his wounded and sorrowful gaze, Freya hesitated before speaking softly.
"Bradley, I have a question for you."
He lowered his head, his gaze heavy and cold, and responded slowly, "What would you like to ask?"
"Are you keeping something from me?" Freya inquired, her lip caught between her teeth, finally voicing the question that had been weighing on her mind for days.
In the past, Bradley had feigned disability and blindness, p
