Page 26 of Widow's Walk

I frown. “Who?”

“Your goons,” she exacerbates. “Your beefy goons that were too scared to hit back. It wasn’t exactly a fair fight, but it felt good pounding on someone,” she mutters.

“Is that how it happened? The break?”

“Howwhathappened?” she yawns dramatically.

“Your injuries,” I drag out through my teeth.

“Sparring,” she trails off as if she’s fading on me.

“Sinclair,” I say, demanding her attention.

She looks at me once again and smiles. A real smile. One where there’s warmth in her eyes and no malice in her grin. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

I try to hide the heat in my face and wipe away my smile with a hand. “You’re pretty cute like this,” I mutter.

“Like what?”

“Vulnerable. Sweet.”

Her eyes widen like I slapped her. “Sweet? I don’t think anyone has ever called mesweet.”

“Well, no one has ever called mecute.”

She giggles and fuck me if it doesn’t jab at something in my chest. “It’s fun pressing your buttons.”

I shake my head. “And you have quickly adapted to them.”

“I learned from the best.”

The levity drains from the room, and I inch closer. “Tell me,” I say as gently as I’m capable of.

“It was only a small fracture,” she shrugs with glazed eyes and a smile on her porcelain face. “I should’ve stayed out of their way.” She flops her head side to side. “But I’m a glutton for punishment.”

Her deluded answer has me reeling with frustration. “What was only a fracture?”

“My arm,duh.” She sighs.

“Okay, so how did you end up needing a rod in your arm?”

She groans like a child not getting their way. “I told you,” she whines. “I had a broken arm and didn’t stay out of their way. I still fought them.”

“They let you fight with a broken arm.”

She snorts, looking away again. “Letme? They were chomping at the bit, seeing any weakness from me, and they went rabid.” She flexes her hand on the topic of conversation—her arm. “They made sure to turn that fracture into mutilation.”

I hold my breath. “Your brothers.” She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t deny it. “And your father. He let them?”

“Letthem,” she echoes, her voice trailing off. “He encouraged them.”

“What about your sister?”

She stares up at the ceiling. “Shekept her head down.Stayed out of their way,” she says as if mocking someone. I’m guessing her sister. “She took everything.”

I frown. “Took what?”

“Anything. Everything. She just…took it. I thought she liked it.” Her blinks are too long as she’s quickly fading now. “Guess not.”

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