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“Oh my god, what happened, sweetheart?” I opened my mouth to try and tell her, but she didn’t give me the chance. “Brody said you got into a fight and now you’re at the hospital. It was that girl, wasn’t it?”

“I—”

“I knew it! I knew it was her.”

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“Wait,” Brody intercepted. “What are you talking about, darlin’?”

“Freshmen year,” Lola ground out, and I could imagine the anger on her face. “Remember when Jan was sick, and I took Aria to school for the week? I told you about that girl who pushed her against the wall.”

I blinked, remembering exactly what happened. Jasmine had cornered me in the lot, but I’d forgotten my bag in Lola’s car, and she’d brought it back to me. She’d heard Jasmine calling me names and witnessed her slamming me against the wall.

“It’s no big deal—” I tried to say.

“Yeah, it is, baby girl,” Uncle Brody ground out and stood. “Why didn’t you tell us, Lola?”

“What?” Lola’s voice lowered. “I did tell you, but you told me it was just high school shit.”

“Fuck.” Uncle Brody scrubbed his hand down his face. “We should have—”

“Guys,” I held my hands up in the air. “Stop, please. It’s no one’s fault. I dealt with it. I doubt she’ll come at me again.” I blinked and stared at Uncle Brody and then at Ford, who was watching us. I didn’t know what possessed me to ask him, “Right?”

His lips slowly lifted into a grin, and he pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Nah. She won’t say another word to you. Especially since you knocked her out.” I couldn’t help my own lips quirking at his words. “Where’d you learn that anyway?”

“Where do you think?” Lola announced over the line.

“Should have known it was you,” Uncle Brody said, but his tone was light now.

“What? You think I’m not gonna teach my girls how to defend themselves?” My girls. I was one of her girls, whether I wanted to be or not. There were times I felt so alone, but I had a family around me. A family not related by blood but who protected me like I was. “I won’t have my own mistakes repeated. You know that, Brody.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, tears springing to my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” Lola murmured. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything, sweetheart.”

“Damn straight,” Ford grunted. “You were defending yourself.”

“But—”

The door swung open, and Uncle Brody snatched his cell off the bed and pressed it to his ear, ending the call. A man in a white lab coat entered and looked around the room.

“Of course it’s you,” he said to Ford.

“What? You not pleased to see me, Doc?”

The doctor grunted and closed the door behind him. “What happened here, Miss”—he looked down at the clipboard he was holding—“Sayer.”

“I got into a fight.”

The doctor’s face didn’t move an inch as he ambled toward me. “Where does it hurt?” I pointed at my ribs and then waved in front of my face. “Got it.” He prodded at my face and checked my eye. “You need an X-ray on that eye to make sure your socket isn’t broken.” He pulled at my lip. “Your lip should heal within a week.” He lifted my T-shirt up, and I realized this dude had no bedside manner at all.

“Ouch!” I gasped a breath as his fingers prodded the left side of my ribs.

“Jesus, Doc, take a little care, yeah?” Ford grunted and pushed off the wall.

The doctor raised his brow and turned his head slowly to face Ford. “Do I tell you how to shoot that gun?” He tilted his head to his belt but didn’t give him the chance to answer. “No. So don’t tell me how to do my job.” He turned back to me. “You need an X-ray here too.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper on his clipboard and pulled it off then handed it to Uncle Brody. “Follow the signs. I’ll come back when I’ve looked at them. A nurse will come and clean your face for you.”

I blinked at the doctor as he exited the room without another word, but as soon as he was gone, the door was flinging open again, and Mom was flying into the room.

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