JASMINE
I still couldn't believe I was now in the car with Henry. I kept glancing at his bandaged hands and the bruises on his face, the marks from yesterday still fresh and ugly.
The silence between us was thick and uncomfortable, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the occasional shift of his body in the seat beside me.
I had been in a terrible mood ever since that silly lecturer had embarrassed me in front of the whole class. I felt like a joke, like everyone was laughing at the "dumb rich wife" who couldn't even pass her courses. But there was no way I would allow that to define me. I refused to let it finish my moment or break my spirit.
And now the system, even though I kept complaining that I didn't want to go, kept reminding me of my sick mother back in the real world.
