I stumbled back. My hip hit the counter.
And pain—hot, sudden, terrifying—flared low in my abdomen.
I looked down and saw red blooming through my leggings.
My breath turned thin. “No… no, no—”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed, not with concern, but irritation. “Don’t you start acting.”
I reached for my phone. My thumb barely touched the screen before Cole snatched it away and flung it across the tile. It skidded under the table and vanished.
My knees threatened to fold. The room tilted. Panic rose like bile.
“Please,” I whispered, staring at him, then her. “Call 911.”
Cole’s smile was small and cruel. “You’re not ruining my night with drama.”
Something in me steadied—clean, cold, surprising.
