The breeze that swept in carried with it the sickly sweet scent of Debbii’s perfume clinging to him. My stomach lurched; I nearly retched.
“Where are you going?” he asked, pausing mid-step when he saw my pale face. For a brief moment, something like concern flickered in his eyes.
“Why are you so pale? Are you feeling unwell?” he pressed, reaching out a hand toward me.
With a blank expression, I avoided his touch. My voice rasped, raw from the night, as I asked, “You didn’t pay for my mom’s hospital bills yesterday?”
For a split second, shock crossed his face.
But almost immediately, a soft and delicate voice drifted from behind him.
“Hedy, don’t blame Bryson. Maybe the hospital staff made a mistake.”
Debbii leaned against him sweetly, her tone dripping with false gentleness.
Her eyes, however, sparkled with provocation as they met mine.
And in that instant, everything became clear to me.
Hedy’s POV
“It’s you! You’re the one who tried to kill my mom!”
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My hand flew toward Debbii’s face in a slap.
A glint of calculation flickered in her eyes. Before my palm could reach her, Bryson’s hand clamped down hard on my wrist and yanked me back.