“Am I the reason you’re angry?” Lyric whispered. Roland could feel his eyes burning holes into his side, and he did his best to avoid Lyric’s gaze as he stared at his ceiling.
He sighed. “No, Lyric.”
He was lying. He was angry at Lyric, but he didn’t know why he was furious, and that pissed him off more than he would have liked, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
“Are you lying?”
“No. Lyric?”
“Hmm?”
“Did Creed clean your neck up?” Chris was constantly nagging about how wounds, no matter how shallow, needed to be cleaned to keep infections away.
“No,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to be touched.”
Roland didn’t know what to say. “Okay. But in the morning, if you still don’t want to be touched, I will show you how to clean it. And you have to clean it, okay?”
Lyric didn’t say
