I pulled my hand away as if his skin were acid.
Nathan blinked, hurt flashing across his face. “Karylle? I know you’re in pain, but I’m here. We’ll get through this.”
Then, I saw her. Danica was hovering in the doorway, clutching her arm in a cast, looking small and fragile. She was biting her lip, playing the part of the victim perfectly.
“What is she doing here?” I asked. My voice was a shard of glass—sharp and dangerous.
Nathan stiffened. He glanced back at her, then turned to me with a sigh. “She wanted to see you, Karylle. She’s been a wreck since the accident.”
Danica stepped forward, tears already spilling down her cheeks. “Karylle… I… I don’t know what to say. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please, you have to believe me. I just didn’t want you driving because you are my boss—”
She reached out as if to touch the foot of my bed.
“Don’t come near me,” I said, my voice low.
“Karylle, please,” Danica sobbed, her shoulders shaking. “I’m hurting too. I feel so guilty.”
“You should,” I spat. “You were drunk. You insisted on driving. You killed my son. You should have died instead of him!”
“That’s enough!” Nathan snapped.