“Hey,” I whisper gently, moving towards her. “You don’t have to apologize.”
Surprise flickers across her eyes.
“But I let him go…”
“He attacked you,” I say. “He forced you to. You shouldn’t have been down in the cellar at all. But Ishould have told you what was happening.”
She lowers her head. I take her hand and lead her into my bathroom.
She follows me without a word, and I feel something in my stomach twist into a thin cord of rage.
I pick her up and place her on the bathroom counter in front of me. Her eyes are thoughtful, maybeeven a little confused, as I examine the bruise on her cheek.
“Don’t f*****g say that,” I hiss. “There’s no way you deserve this.”
Her eyes cloud over. She refuses to look at me.
Before I can figure out what to say next, my phone starts ringing.
I pick
