Chapter 53: Cole's POV
Almost a year ago, I'd gone grocery shopping with Olive.
It was one of her tiny favorite things to do—wandering through aisles, comparing prices on cereal boxes, getting excited over vegetables like they were treasure. I'd hated it. Hated how domestic it felt, how ordinary. But I went because it kept her happy. Kept her contained.
And as long as she stayed contained—not buying expensive clothes, not dolling herself up, not drawing attention—I could control who looked at her. Who wanted her.
I was paying at the register when the cashier kept glancing at Olive, this stupid smile on his face.
"She's cute," he said, like I wasn't standing right there. "Is she your sister? She could really be in one of those commercials. You know, like that energy drink ad with that
