"I'm fine," Anabella said firmly.
Noah studied her for a moment, then stood. "Alright, I'm gonna grab something to drink. You want anything?"
Anabella shook her head. "I'm good, thanks."
He ruffled her hair playfully, ignoring her scowl, and wandered off toward the vending machines. Clair remained, seated across from her.
The quiet between them was companionable, but something in the air shifted suddenly, making Anabella tense. Her gaze darted down the hallway, and her heart sank.
Walking toward them was her mother. Helena's determined stride and sharp expression made Anabella freeze where she sat. The older woman's presence was like a storm cloud rolling in, and every instinct Anabella had screamed at her to run, to hide, to do anything but face her.
