"What are you saying, Mum?" I managed, forcing myself to steady my breathing. If I panicked, she'd hear my heart racing.
She took a step closer. "A man's scent is all over you, Jasmine," she pressed, her voice dipping into suspicion. "Did anyone touch you?"
A bitter laugh almost bubbled up my throat.
For the first time in my life, my mother actually cared about me being touched by a man.
How surprising.
I turned to her, feigning annoyance and letting my anger mask my fear.
"I was in a house, a plane, and a car with Alaric, my brother. Is it surprising that you can smell him all over me?"
I asked in irritation, meeting her gaze and daring her to question me further.
"Let her be, Jorja." My father–stepfather said in an exhausted tone.
I got used to calling him "father" and calling Alaric "brother" because they never treated me as a step–family. And that's why I loved them so much.
