phin
ome out of concern. He came for damage control, to protec
ce devoid of any real warmth. He stood b
es fell on the Florence travel brochure on my bedside table. A flicker of susp
"She was worried you might file a lawsuit.
ugh. "I don't want anything from you," I s
if to adjust my pillow, a gesture of condescending charity. His fingers br
r my head. She immediately looped her arm through his, a possessive anchor.
impose. After all," she looked directly at me, "it wouldn't be ri
randing me as a ho
al's sunroom. Isabella insisted they accompany me, a perfectly c
past a large, ornate fountain, Isabella suddenly stumbled. She
, his eyes blazing. In front of a dozen onlookers-family assoc
e roared. "You pushed her! Yo
the handles of my wheelchair. With a violent shove, h
e. I felt the stitches tear. The cold water stung the open
me, his face twi
us," he snarled, his voic
od debt, delivered in public