He was disgusted. Like I was something rotten he wished would disappear.
Ryle squeezed my hand.
Hard.
His little fingers were ice cold. His head lowered slowly, shoulders curling in like he was bracing for a hit. He didn’t cry. He didn’t speak. He just trembled beside me, eyes fixed on the floor.
My chest tightened so badly it hurt to breathe. I wrapped my arm around him and pulled him close, pressing his head into my side.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Mama’s here.”
David glanced at us. Just once. Then he sneered.
“Nice act,” he said flatly. “Both of you. If there were awards for this, you’d win. Pretending to be sick, pretending to be broken, just to get my sympathy. Do you really think I can’t see through it? The real victim here is Roxanne.”
Roxanne suddenly bent forward with a soft cry. “David… my stomach hurts…”
That was all it took.
He didn’t even think.
He picked her up and ran toward the doctor’s area like she was glass. His shoulder smashed into mine as he passed and I fell.
“Fuck! Get your ass away from here, Isabella!”
My elbow hit the marble floor hard. Pain shot up my arm and straight into my skull. I sucked in a breath but no sound came out.
He never looked back.