His words cut deep, each one carving into bone.
I didn’t argue.
I’d grown used to hearing accusations like that.
Julian said nothing more, but I could feel the stiffness in his body, as if he were forcing himself to hold back.
The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic and tension, pressing down on my chest until I could barely breathe.
Everett finally set the medical case down, his gaze sweeping over me coldly.
“I can examine her,” he said, “but I won’t cover anything up.”
Julian gave a small nod.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, trying—and failing—to keep his voice steady.
I looked away. The ceiling light was blinding, blurring into a haze of white.
The pain was still there, but what cut deeper was the emptiness—the kind that comes from being forgotten for too long.
Julian di
