“No, you listen to me, Mercer,” she spat, taking three long strides into the room.

She gripped the strap of her large canvas tote bag so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“You and your family have done enough.”

“I’m trying to protect her,” Luke said, his voice dropping an octave.

“Protect her?” Nadia laughed, a harsh, bitter sound.

She stopped at the foot of my bed, her eyes scanning my face.

“Elena,” she whispered, her expression softening for a fraction of a second.

I tried to speak, but my throat felt like dry paper.

I managed a weak nod.

Nadia turned back to Luke, the softness instantly vanishing from her face.

“She was running because of you,” Nadia said.

“What are you talking about?” Luke asked.

“She didn’t tell you, did she?” Nadia asked.

She unzipped her bag with a sharp metallic rasp.

“She didn’t want to drag you into the dirt your father throws around.”

Dr. Bennett cleared his throat, adjusting his stethoscope.

“Please, keep your voices down,” the doctor warned.

Nobody listened to him.

Marco took a half-step forward, his eyes on Nadia’s hands as she reached into the bag.