The younger ones, like Micah? I could almost feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on me. I knew they’d hoped I’d choose one of them to marry, believing it would elevate their status within our circle and save us from the trouble of inviting an outsider into our lives. Their ambitions were so painfully short-sighted. Thank God none of them had openly voiced their opinions about my marriage; I didn’t have the time or energy to deal with that kind of mess right now. Not when Roberto was lying here, bruised and battered, and I had no idea who had done this to him.
Dr. Harris pulled out a pair of scissors, his movements steady and deliberate as he cut away Roberto’s shirt and pants. I winced, my heart tightening as I watched the fabric fall away, exposing the damage beneath. Whe
