CHAPTER 37
Spencer’s POV
My expression hardens as I close the distance between us because something about the way she's in pain makes my chest tighten.
“You should sit,” I say.
It comes out less like a suggestion and more like an order.
Clara shifts her weight, clearly stubborn enough to resist on principle alone. “I’m fine.”
She is absolutely not fine.
Her skin looks pale under the hotel lights, eyes dulled by exhaustion, lips pressed together like she’s fighting off nausea. The towel is secured around her chest, but she’s clutching it tighter than necessary, like she’s suddenly aware of how exposed she is.
I look away first.
“Sit,” I repeat, softer this time, gesturing toward the edge of the bed.
She hesitates, then exhales and does as told, sinking slowly to the ground. The m
