I was too tired to look at her, too tired to argue a single word. I zipped up my suitcase and walked toward the door.
Eliana froze, surprised by my reaction. She asked on impulse, "Where are you going?"
I didn't answer. I didn't even slow my step. There was nothing left to say to someone blind to their heart.
The instant my hand reached for the doorknob, a gust of air came from the side and a sharp, unexpected blow cracked across my face. The force was heavy; heat and pain flared across my cheek.
Gideon had somehow broken free of Eliana. His eyes, bloodshot from the alcohol, glared at me as he jabbed a finger in my direction.
"My sister is talking to you! Scum! Are you deaf?!"
At first I didn't want to engage with him—scenes like this were nothing new after seven years. But my silence only fed his arrogance. He lunged, swinging the half-empty bottle he held, and smashed it toward me.
I turned my head instinctively, but it was too fast, too savage. The bottle struck my temple with a bone-rattling impact. A sharp explosion of pain ripped across my head.