Sloane’s POV
What? Xavier? "No." My head snaps up, the denial escapes me so sharply that several students at the next table turn in our direction.
I lower my voice, forcing myself to breathe. "No. Xavier would never hurt me."
But the more desperately I try to make them understand, the more uncertain their expressions become.
Because I know what they see. A girl who went quiet at the mention of abuse. Then defensive. Someone who folded into herself, covered her throat, and immediately defended her boyfriend when questioned.
I've seen that reaction in other people, too. I've watched victims insist everything was fine while everyone around them exchanged worried glances. Now I'm the one sitting beneath those glances, and I hate how little control I have over what they believe.
"He doesn
