I glance back towards him.
“Just don’t… don’t hurt her.”
There’s no anger or threat in his tone when he makes his appeal. He’s acting with nothing but pure fear for his sister.
I meet his eyes for a moment. Then I turn and resume my walk out. Just before I go, I call over my shoulder, “Unfortunately for my new bride, I’m not in the habit of making promises I can’t keep.”
I stare at my father’s face.
His eyes are sad, his posture stoic. He gazes down on me with sympathy like I haven’t seen since the day he died.
But there's something lacking from the likeness I’ve scrawled on the wall opposite my bed. I let loose a deep sigh of frustration.
It’s been three days since I was forced into this marriage.
Three days since I last saw my pretend husband.
Three days since I lost my future t
