Noah
My hand flew up instinctively, my fingers clutching the heavy collar of Cassian's sweatshirt.
The thick fleece had failed me, shifting slightly when I stood up and exposing the dark, purple bruise he had left right against the side of my tendon.
"Oh," I stammered, my brain firing wildly to find a cover story. "That. Yeah. Some guy on the street yesterday. He… he bumped into me at the station, and things got a little heated. But I'm fine. Honestly, you should have seen the other guy."
The words felt clumsy as they left my mouth, but the irony wasn't lost on me... the other guy was currently sitting in a luxury car two blocks away, probably still smiling about it.
My mother looked at me for a long, heavy beat.
She wasn't fully convinced; I could tell by the way her lips thinned into a tight line. But instead of pressing for details, she just looked back down at her tea, letting the excuse slide.
