Sienna’s POV

Vivienne.

She stands in front of me like a barricade, eyes raw at the edges and full of poison. She doesn’t need words; every inch of her says it: You don’t belong. He’s mine.

“The doctor said nobody,” she spits, the sound tight, forced down to a rasp. “He’s unstable. Seeing you will only push him over the edge, Sienna. Go back to your boyfriend. I’m his fiancée. I’m staying.”

“Vivienne, please. ...