Chapter 2

He yanks me so hard I almost hit the floor.

I shove the discharge papers deep into my coat pocket before he can see them. He doesn't even notice. He's too busy scowling at me like I'm the problem.

"Forget it. Whatever." He rolls his eyes. "Bella, seriously — where's your class? Where's your basic human decency? Nina's admitted upstairs and you're just gonna leave without saying hi?"

"She can't keep food down. Go home and make her some of that chicken soup she likes. Bring it back tonight."

I straighten up. I give him my sweetest, coldest smile.

"Chris, good soup takes love. You love her so much — why don't you make it yourself?"

His face twists.

"How many times do I have to explain this? Nina's been sick since we were kids. I have to look after her. There's nothing between us. She's pure, she's innocent — and you're jealous of a girl like that? God, that's evil."

His grip on my wrist is a vise. I can't shake him off.

He drags me down the hallway like I'm a piece of luggage. People stop and stare. I can feel their eyes crawling all over me. I've never been so humiliated in my life.

Nina's private room looks like a five-star hotel. There's a tray of gourmet food in front of her — light, clean, perfect for a delicate stomach. She's smiling into her phone.

"Thank you SO much, Mrs. Hale! Your cooking is unreal — Chris will make sure I eat every bite, I promise!"

Six years I dated Chris. I visited his parents' place plenty of times. Every visit I scrubbed their kitchen, folded their laundry, refused to let them lift a finger. I wanted them to love me.

Mrs. Hale never once cooked for me.

But I did overhear her once. Complaining to Chris in the kitchen.

"Bella's a nice enough girl. Just… you know. Not one of us."