You know, Aerin, I think you might have misunderstood a few things,” Adela murmurs as she examines my ankle.

I don’t take my gaze away from the bedroom wall since it would take one peek for her to know that I spent most of last night and this morning crying.

If there’s one thing I could do without when I’m already feeling this raw and exposed, it’s criticism or, even worse, judgment.

“Is there another break?” I ask her, pointedly ignoring her comment.

I bet Mack is hanging on ...