Chapter 9

Clara hurt all over. Her back ached from the stiff couch, every muscle sore and tight. The cold air in the room crept under her thin blanket, making her shiver no matter how small she tried to curl up. She tucked her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, but it didn’t help. The chill sank deep, right into her bones, and she couldn’t stop shaking. Across the room, Dante was lying in that huge, fancy bed. She could picture him—stretched out like he owned the world, all warm and cozy under those silky sheets. He probably loved knowing she was miserable over here, freezing just to prove she didn’t need him. It made her so mad she could scream.