“That’s not what I’m doing,” Atticus says, his voice tight now, controlled but strained.
“It feels like it,” I shoot back, tears burning behind my eyes even as fury keeps them from falling, “and maybe it’s easier for you if I am gone, because then you don’t have to deal with whatever this is.”
“That’s unfair,” he says sharply.
“So is pretending you haven’t been acting like I’m a problem you don’t know how to solve,” I yell, my voice cracking as the words finally hit the raw places they have been circling for days.
The room hums with tension, the bond flaring and pulling and twisting painfully between the three of us, and I suddenly cannot stand being there another second.
“I’m done with this,” I say hoarsely, turning away before anyone can stop me.
I storm out of the war room, down t
