Capitolo XXVI

Lucas had his eyes closed when Sigmund and I entered the room. He was on his back, his forearm resting on his forehead, his chest bare, perfectly chiseled like an old statue. I wanted to jump on top of him if it weren't for Sigmund being with us. I didn't even care that he was injured. He still wore the slacks he wore earlier, with a huge rip on the thigh, the fabric probably hard and dried with blood. I knocked twice on the open door to let him know there was company. He groaned and sighed deeply like he was annoyed.

"I'm not hungry, Da—" he stopped mid-sentence after he removed his arms and saw that it was us. I try not to twitch with Lucas' unfinished sentence. I'm tired, but I wasn't stupid. That wretched bitch, trying to take what's not hers. I reminded myself to put her in place when I have the opportunity. "Sigmund." Lucas frowned, trying to sit up, but the doctor stopped him.

I shut the door behind me, locking it in case Daphne decides to parade inside like she owns the place