***
~~FINN~~
***
Delilah hasn’t stopped glaring at me.
She’s sitting to my left in the only visitor chair in the room, arms crossed so tightly across her chest I’m half-convinced she’s trying to fold herself in half. Her legs are angled away from me, but her eyes—they haven’t moved. Not once. Not since the doctor gave her visitation clearance.
“Could you stop with the looks, please?” I grumble, adjusting myself on the hospital bed.
My arm is immobilized in a heavy-duty sling, wrapped and elevated with what feels like ten pounds of gauze and Velcro.
“I’m already in pain as it stands. I don’t need you breathing down my neck.”
Delilah only glares harder.
“I could go to jail for what I did,” she says.
“No, you won’t. I asked you to do it. It was my decision.”
She looks away for t
