Wyatt stood at the door, dressed in a thin pajama, his hair still wet: "Rae."
It had been only two days, but Rae Bennett felt he had grown much thinner.
"Wait a moment." She went inside, fetched Rueben Harrington's car keys, and handed them over, "Here are your keys."
Wyatt accepted the car keys, didn't withdraw his hand, but instead opened his palm: "I injured my hand."
There was a long gash in the center of his palm, the skin flapped open, and it had just begun to form a scab.
Only then did Rae Bennett notice the blood on the floor where he had been standing. Her throat tightened, and her voice strained: "How did you get hurt?"
Wyatt watched her, observing the color of her face: "I accidentally broke the bathroom mirror."
"Accidentally?"
Could an accident really cause such a long wound?
Rae Bennett stared into Wyatt's eyes.
He couldn't lie any longer: "On purpose."
"Wyatt!"
