Josie
I still couldn't believe what was happening. The whole scene played over and over in my head like a cruel play I hadn't agreed to star in. My stomach twisted, and part of me wanted to scream at everyone, throw something, anything—just to shatter this suffocating tension. But somehow, I forced myself to stay collected, at least on the outside. Inside, I was breaking into sharp, uneven pieces.
Thorne's voice cut through my haze, low and bitter. "Did you hear what that man said?" His tone was like a blade scraping against stone. "If I'd chosen Michelle over you, she'd be the one warming my bed right now—not lying in a hospital bed."
His words were cruel, calculated to wound, and they did. I flinched. My lips parted, but nothing came out. What could I say? That he was wrong? That he wasn't being fair? That maybe, just maybe, I hadn't asked for any of this? But the words stayed lodged in my throat, heavy and bitter.
