When hard decisions are made…
LEMON
“Lemon, I think we need to sit you down,” Bentley said, pushing me toward a small couch and chair to the side of the reception area.
“Bentley, I’m fine,” I tried to tell him.
“No, you’re not. We’ll get the authorities here so they can start looking for Peach and Axel, but you need to calm down,” he said, pressing me down onto the seat.
“It’s pointless, Bentley. You need to listen to me,” I told him.
“What did the doctor tell you when you hit your head? I’m worried about all the stress making your injury worse,” he frowned.
“Bentley, stop. There is so much to this you don’t even understand,” I tried.
“Mr. McArthur, is everything okay over here?” Marisol asked, joining us. I scowled at her.
“No, it’s not,” he said. “My wife is missing, and
