LOGIN"That woman..." she pointed at her without a shred of hesitation, "...should be ashamed of herself. If she wanted to help you, there were other ways. A decent woman would have taken you anywhere but here. Instead she surrounded you with this filth and expected you to believe it was a home." Denise
Hazel held her tightly, too tightly. As though letting go for even a second might mean losing her all over again. She buried her face against Gianna's hair. "You found me..." Gianna whispered through tears. Hazel couldn't answer. She only held her closer. Then, over Gianna's shoulder, Hazel lifted
Salvatore watched her, "Hazel." She didn't stop, "If there's even the smallest chance my daughter is there..." her hands shook as she pulled on her coat, "...then she's not spending another minute in that place." She was halfway to the door before Salvatore caught up beside her. "Hazel, we don't
She slipped off Denise's lap and crossed the room, wrapping one arm around the pole, she pushed lightly from the floor. Her body rose in one smooth motion. She curled around the pole like a ribbon caught in the wind, every movement precise, every line unmistakably shaped by years of ballet. For a
Gianna laughed, suddenly shy beneath all the attention, "It wasn't perfect." "Oh, listen to Miss Perfection." Denise pointed toward the chrome pole standing near the corner of the room, "What about that?" Gianna followed her finger, "The pole?" Tasha nodded, "You think you can climb it?" Gianna
Before she could react, Morgan gently pressed the black costume into her arms, "Wear it." Gianna stared, "...No." "Yes!" they all shouted in unison. Denise hid another smile behind her coffee. Gianna looked toward her for help, "Mama D?" Denise lifted both hands, "I've learned not to argue when
"Smart?" he said, shaking his head like I’d said something funny, "Gianna, look at yourself. You have a perfect face and a body that makes me stop breathing. Why would you waste your time trying to be smart? You don't need a brain when you have an ass like that." He leaned in, kissing the top of my
Vance stepped back, "See? I knew you had it in you. Fear is a wonderful teacher." He started to untie my arms, leaving me there shaking and broken on the stretcher. I had done it but as I lay there, cold and wet, I felt like the girl who couldn't read had died under that towel, and someone else was
I looked at Raphael, and he looked just as shaken as I felt. He went completely stiff, his jaw tightening until a muscle pulsed in his cheek. He wouldn't look at me. He shifted in his seat, suddenly putting distance between our bodies, his movements jerky and uncomfortable. "So," he said, his voice
"The way you’re trying to read this is a linear trap," he said, "Your brain doesn't move in lines, Gianna. It moves in spheres. You're trying to force a 3D mind into a 2D space. It’s a sensory overload, not a lack of intelligence." He shifted his weight, and I felt the heat of him radiating through







