Chapter 2: What the Sleeve Revealed
Cole heard me.
I watched his jaw tighten for exactly one second before the smile came back, smoother this time, practiced.
"Evidence of what?" he said lightly.
"Nora, you really do love a scene."
His friends laughed.
One of them clinked his glass.
Mara touched my arm.
"She's just joking, Cole."
Her voice was so small.
So careful.
That was when I noticed her other hand — the one she'd kept pressed flat against her ribs all afternoon.
She shifted, and her sleeve slipped back an inch.
Another bruise.
Older.
Faded green at the edges.
Not from a fall.
Nobody falls the same way twice in the same place.
I kept my voice even.
"Mara, come help me get towels from inside."
Cole stood.
"She's resting."
"It'll take two minutes."
Something passed between us.
He knew I had seen it.
I knew he knew.
"Go ahead," he said finally, waving his hand like he was releasing a dog.
The moment we stepped through the sliding door, Mara grabbed my wrist.
"Don't," she whispered.
"Please, Nora.
Not here.
Not today."
"How long?" I asked.
Her eyes filled.
She didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
May you like
From outside, Cole's laughter floated through the glass like nothing had happened.
That was the moment I stopped being her quiet little sister.
