ELIJAH'S POV
I rubbed my jaw where Isaac's fist had connected, tasting blood on my lip. The son of a bitch had actually hit me. In my own house. My sunglasses lay cracked on the hardwood floor like broken promises.
"What the hell was that about?" I spat, turning to my mother.
She stood pressed against the window, her face pale as winter. Her hands shook as she smoothed down her navy dress, trying to regain some composure. But I could see it in her eyes. That look. Fear. Unadulterated fear.
My stomach dropped.
"Mom?" My voice came out smaller than I intended. "What did you tell him?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her fingers found that cross necklace she always wore, working it like a lifeline.
"Mom, what did you say to Isaac?"
"He already knew." The words tumbled out in a rush. "It must have been his mother who told him. Yeah… It has to be her somehow. She must have seen what happened that night, Elijah. She had to be there. Who else could it be? Could it be Imogen?"
