Chapter forty-five.
I stood rooted to the spot, my fingers curling into fists as her voice echoed through the house.
“Lucas isn’t here,” I said coldly, turning to face her.
Annabel stopped halfway on the stairs, then slowly turned back to me, her lips curling into a mocking smile.
“Oh,” she said, dragging the word. “So he left you too?”
Her words hit harder than I expected, but I refused to give her the satisfaction.
“Watch your words, Annabel,” I replied sharply.
She laughed, a soft, irritating sound as she descended the stairs again, dragging her suitcase behind her.
“I don’t need to watch anything,” she said. “Not when it’s so obvious.”
“Obvious?” I scoffed. “What exactly is obvious?”
She stepped closer, her eyes scanning me from head to toe like I was something beneath her.
