“I see through you,” I said quietly. “I just didn’t bother saying it before. But that doesn’t mean you get to keep stepping on me like this.”
Her expression flickered for a second, just a second.
Then—
A voice cut through the room.
Cold. Low. Dangerous.
“Mikayla… what the hell are you doing?”
My body went stiff.
I turned around.
Hudson stood at the door, his eyes dark and terrifying. But when he looked at her…
His voice changed.
“Amber,” he said, stepping forward quickly, his tone softening. “What happened? Why are you crying?”
Amber sniffed, tears falling as she spoke, her voice shaking like she was about to break. She twisted the story just enough, soft and pitiful, and I watched his face grow colder with every word.
Then he turned to me.
“It’s just a scarf,” he said, his voice flat, sharp. “Why the hell did you have to hit her over something like that?”
My chest tightened. “Just a scarf?” My voice shook before I could stop it. “Hudson! That’s the only thing my grandma left me. The only one.”
He paused.
Just for a second.
Like he didn’t expect that.
In five years… I never raised my voice at him. Not once. But now my hands were shaking, my eyes burning, and I didn't even recognize myself.