"Roland, everything you owe Simon—I'm going to take it back from you. Piece by piece."
For days after the blood draw, my fever refused to break.
Sarah wouldn't allow a doctor. She only had the housekeeper force bitter herbal concoctions down my throat each day.
I was too weak to get out of bed.
Simon, on the other hand, made a habit of coming to my room to gloat.
"Roland, you really are pathetic right now."
He traced a finger along my cheek.
"Sarah doesn't love you. She never did. Every time she touches you, it makes her skin crawl."
"Your wedding night? She actually..."
He paused on purpose, covering his mouth as a giggle slipped out.
"She actually hired a streetwalker to keep you company."
"Too bad you ran off before you got to enjoy it."
I opened my eyes and fixed them on him.
Even though I already knew the truth, hearing it spoken aloud still turned my stomach.
I forced myself upright and slapped him across the face.
"Get out!"
Simon yelped and tumbled to the floor.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. Sarah rushed in.
The moment she saw Simon on the ground, the color drained from her face. She dropped to her knees beside him.
"Simon, are you okay?"
Simon clutched his cheek, tears streaming down.