Mr. Blackthorn’s observations made me tense up.
Panic coursed through me as I scrambled for a plausible explanation.
He hummed questioningly at my delayed response.
I knew I had to lie to cover the truth. The real reasons behind my injuries were too dark and too painful to share, especially with someone I barely knew.
"I sprained my foot when I slipped while cleaning the house yesterday," I began, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. "The wound you're treating now is from me clumsily falling and landing on the sharp edge of a chair. I may have rubbed it too hard while showering, so it started bleeding again."
I tried to inject a self-deprecating note into my words to make the fabrication more believable, forcing a small, embarrassed laugh.
His hand, resting high on my thigh, bega
