Blanche's POV
I walked into the observation room and found Demetrius lying flat on the hospital bed, seemingly asleep.
His sleep was restless, though, and my quiet footsteps were enough to make his eyes flutter open.
When he saw me, panic flashed across his features—clearly mortified that I was seeing him in this condition.
He attempted to push himself upright, but I quickly pressed my hand against his arm. "Don't move, Demetrius. Just stay still."
Ignoring my protest, he propped himself against the headboard anyway. His lips looked drained of color as he met my gaze, managing a fragile smile. "I'm sorry you have to witness me like this."
My eyes began to sting, and I dropped my gaze. "Please don't apologize. This happened because of me, you—"
"Zain Jacob contacted you, didn't he?" Demetrius cut me off.
I nodded slightly. "He did."
Demetrius's arm was encased in a cast, and yellowing bruises marked his face.
