Willow sipped her tea, one long, thin leg folded elegantly over the other, her skinny jeans ripped at the knee. She'd made no effort to hide her split lip or the bruise forming from Carter's knockout punch, instead letting the truth show like she wore it proudly. She set her cup in her saucer and exhaled the scent of chamomile, the breeze carrying it to me while I stared into my coffee and just enjoyed her company.

Hard to believe we'd fought for our lives just last ...