Carlos was on his knees, his face twisted in a grimace of agony, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle.
"Please!" Beatrice cried out. Her voice was thin and trembling, the sound of a grandmother whose heart was breaking. She stepped forward, reaching out a shaking hand toward Derek. "Please, let him go. He is your brother. He is grieving."
Derek looked at his grandmother. He saw the fear in her eyes. His jaw tightened. The cold fury in his gaze did not abate, but his grip loosened slightly.
With a sudden, violent motion, he shoved Carlos away.
Carlos stumbled backward, clutching his bruised wrist to his chest. He fell against the side of the bed, gasping for air, his eyes wide with humiliation and lingering rage.
Derek did not look at him again. He turned his back on his brother and faced Marissa.
