DANTE
I sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on my knees, and watching Olivia pace across the space. Her bare feet dragged with every step, her fingers buried in her hair.
“This can’t be happening,” she muttered, louder each time. “This is not—” She spun around and started pacing the other way.
I shifted, my shoulders tight. Watching her move like that made me feel uneasy. “Olivia, can you stop for a second?”
She froze, her eyes wide and wet. “How can I stop?” She almost screamed. “He sued me, Dante! He actually sued me!”
I exhaled and set my cup down. “Pacing won’t fix it. You’re just making yourself crazy and honestly, you’re making me nervous.”
She stared at me, her face pale. “You don’t understand,” she whispered. “I could go to jail, Dante. Jail. Do you hear me?” Her voice rose
