Livia’s POV
When Ford comes back inside after taking the call, he looks shell-shocked. Like he just witnessed something insanely violent outside.
“Are you alright?” I can’t help but ask. “You look so pale.”
“I’m fine,” he says, in a flat tone that tells me everything is not in fact fine.
I swallow hard. “You don’t seem okay. What if the sheriff—“
“Livia, let it go.”
His tone is firm. Maybe even angry.
I shrink against my seat. He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“You guys got the ice cream?”
Nadine nods. “It’s right here.”
“Go finish it so we can go home.”
He sounds out of it. Nadine doesn’t seem to notice. But if there’s one thing that being in an abusive tone has taught me, it’s noticing the slight shifts of atmosphere around people. There’s something about that
