I should've known the second Franklord said he sent someone with the water. But I didn't expect it to be Porter.
Why the hell was she even here? Did she lose the job at that café already? Was this what she'd been reduced to; running errands in Hewitt's house? Was she a staff now?
She didn't answer when I asked, just kept her eyes glued to her swollen foot. And despite myself, I noticed it. The redness. And she looked… worn out. She used to look—well, okay. She used to look okay. But today? Not so much.
I crouched, reaching toward her ankle, and she flinched back, catching my off guard. This was the second time she flinched at me.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, loud and shaky.
I held her gaze for a moment longer, searching for the lie. Maybe she didn't want me bothering her. Fine. "If you can walk on it, there's a hospital a few miles out. You can stop there—on your way *out.*"
