This so-called wild man—who usually spoke so few words—had suddenly become fluent in sweet talk.
All to keep me from learning the truth.
All to continue his lies for Suzzette.
I held the coconut bowl in my hands and shook my head.
"Sanders, this medicine is too bitter. I really don’t want to drink it anymore."
He never allowed me to call him Jaren—only by his surname.
I thought of Suzzette sweetly calling him "Jaren" over and over again, and bitterness welled up inside me.
However, Jaren insisted on feeding me the medicine.
I said coldly, “All medicine is poisonous in some way. Aren’t you afraid that taking too much might have side effects?”
At the mention of side effects, he hesitated. Then he forced a smile, pretending to be at ease.
"There are no side effects, Reese. Just drink it."
He had become so skilled at lying to me—so calm, so effortlessly cheerful.
As he wished, I took the bowl and drank it all in one go.
The bitterness made me wince.
A flash of guilt crossed his eyes, and he quickly said he would go find some honey for me.
The moment he left, I turned away and spat out the medicine.
Jaren had a cruel heart.
If I kept drinking this, my leg might never heal.
—