Atticus’s P.O.V
Before I could add one and two together, Neriah collapsed with a thud and while she remained lifeless on the ground, my eyes shifted to Marisol.
Her shoulders tensed, her lips wobbling and her eyes blinking continuously as if she was asking for permission to check on Neriah. But she didn’t ask. Instead, she dropped to her knees before her, checking her pulse and nudging her to wake up.
This was what I was talking about.
Marisol wasn’t a saint. I had given her the order to stay away from Neriah. But she showed it to my face that my words held no meaning.
She always put on a mask of meekness but beneath that mask, a rebellious woman existed.
I threw my head back, weaving my hands through my hair frustratedly and in the next second, the pack doctor arrived checking
