PREVIEW
... the worn carpet. She had a small first-aid kit open on the coffee table, the lid flipped back like a clamshell. A cotton pad soaked in antiseptic dabbed at the split in my lower lip, the sting sharp enough to make my eyes water. She tilted my chin with two fingers, gentle but firm, her perfume, something warm and vanilla, filling the small space between us. Every time the cotton touched the cut, I hissed through my teeth.
"Hold still," she murmured, swapping the pad for a clean one. "Yo ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE



























