I spent ten minutes in front of the bathroom sink, scrubbing off the scent of Serge’s mint and tobacco off my skin, but nothing could wash away that heat of his fingers.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I forced my swollen lips to stay flat as I pulled my damp hair into a loose bun, and threw on a simple grey oversized shirt to hide the pink marks on my neck.
Walking down the grand staircase, I almost felt like I was marching toward an execution but when I stepped into the dining room, crispy smell of roasted chicken and garlic hit my nose.
My stomach immediately rolled, a sharp wave of leftover nausea hitting the back of my throat, but I forced it down. I couldn't throw up. Not again.
.“Oh, Ava! Come, sit down,” Abby’s sweet voice cut through to me. She was already seated at the mas
