Chapter 79
Of course not! Georgia’s thoughts flared with fierce indignation, yet she clenched her jaw to keep the words from escaping her lips. Her pride demanded silence, even as her pulse raced in heated protest.
Raising a steady hand, she pointed firmly toward the door. “It’s getting late, Mr. Nash. Please leave.”
Larkin lifted his delicate chin with a faint air of hauteur, his expression sharp and unyielding. “I won’t apologize to you.”
Without looking back, he turned and stepped through the threshold of Georgia’s modest dormitory. His voice lingered in the stale air, calm but biting. “Your wound will fester if left untreated.”
Georgia stood frozen, watching his silhouette dissolve into the darkness outside. His words echoed in her chest, a bitter
reminder that refused to fade.
What business is it of yours? she seethed silently, jaw tight with frustration.
The door, left ajar, invited a cold draft. Georgia Inhaled deeply, the chill crawling beneath her skin. Slowly, she exhaled and moved forward to close it, her hand resting briefly on the worn wood.
Before the latch could click shut, a violent shove slammed the door open again, jolting her backward.
“Laura?” Georgia’s voice barely rose above a whisper.
Standing in the doorway was Laura, her presence like a dark storm. Her eyes blazed with fury, her face twisted into a mask of venomous accusation.
“You hypocrite!” Laura spat, her voice sharp and cracking with rage. “You promised you’d plead for me. Did you? Did you even try to show kindness? You’re the cruelest person I’ve ever known!”
She stormed inside, her anger spilling over like a torrent. “You’re tangled up with Mr. Hill, aren’t you? Then why are you chasing after other men? Who was that just now? Mr. Foster? Seducing him on the side? Are you out hunting new conquests while playing the loyal girl? Listen to me! If you’d spoken for me, would I be choking now? Would I be losing my voice, gasping for air like a dying animal? The doctor said it could take months to recover–if I even get it back at all! And you-” Her voice broke, tears threatening to spill “-you said you’d help me. I begged, I apologized! And what did you do? Nothing! You let me fall!
Her accusations struck Georgia like blows, but she remained silent, her body still as stone.
Laura’s rage spiraled into hysteria. “You’re the most deceitful, pretentious woman I’ve ever met! I hate you!”
Georgia’s hands moved on their own accord, reaching out to touch Laura’s fevered forehead, her voice calm despite the chaos. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?” Laura blinked, stunned, her blazing eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Do you want me dead?”
The scream shattered the room, piercing Georgia’s eardrums. She smiled faintly, cold and sharp. “Do you really think you’re suffering because of me?”
“Of course I am!” Laura shot back, trembling with rage. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been–kicked out of Vetro Club! Do you know how brutal it is for a college girl in a foreign country? To scrape together money for tuition and rent with worthless odd jobs? Do you have any idea how hard life is?”
Georgia fought down a bitter laugh. “Clearly, you do. Life is hard. So why do you insist on ruining it?”
“What are you saying? How am I ruining it?” Laura’s voice cracked, desperation bleeding through her anger. “You promised you’d plead for me–and you broke that promise! You wanted my gratitude, but you left me to rot! You’re a monster, Georgia!
Georgia closed her eyes, weariness settling deep into her bones. First, Larkin had touched her wound without consent, stirring pain she thought she’d left behind. Now Laura’s hysterics piled onto her already frayed nerves. Usually, she might have let the tempest pass, shrugged it off, but tonight, she couldn’t. Tonight, she needed a refuge a place to breathe, to think, to be herself without the world pressing down so heavy.
Her voice was quiet but resolute “You started all of this. If you think you have the right to hurt me, then I have every right.
Chapter 70
to respond in kind. And yet, you’re still standing here, in one piece. Ever wonder why?”
A bitter chuckle escaped her lips. “Maybe you should go back and stir trouble with Mr. Hill again. See what he does to you.
next time.”
Laura blinked, confusion mingling with suspicion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you don’t want to help, then fine. But don’t make a scene just to clear your own conscience.”
The phrase clear your conscience struck Georgia like an ice pick. For most, it was a simple idiom, easily tossed aside. But to her, it conjured dread–reminding her of the thin line she walked every day.
Stepping closer, her eyes fierce, Georgia hissed, “Clear my conscience? What do you mean? What am I supposed to clear my name from? I didn’t do anything to you. You set someone up and got caught. That’s why they’re after you. And now, you blame me for not pleading your case? What makes you so arrogant and stupid?”
Laura stumbled backward with every word Georgia uttered, her grip on her own rage faltering. ‘This isn’t the Georgia | knew,” she thought, fear creeping through her veins.
With a scream that fractured the silence, Laura burst out, “I knew it! You’ve been faking all along! Your pathetic act? It’s all lies! No Mr. Foster, no Mr. Hill. You got me kicked out, and now you think you can drop the mask in front of me? Because no one else can see through you?”
Georgia stopped, then laughed a raw, harsh sound that filled the room and rattled Laura’s nerves until she clapped her hands over her ears.
“What’s so funny? You think I’m blind?” Laura shouted.
Georgia gave a sideways glance, shaking her head with a weary smile. “I need to rest now. You should leave.”
“You want to kick me out after what you’ve done to me? No way! The doctor said I need a long rest to recover, and even then, my voice might never be the same. And you want me gone now?”
Laura’s voice rose again, desperation bleeding through the anger.
Georgia’s tone turned icy, almost clinical. “Your voice is broken only temporarily. Be grateful it’s not permanent.”
Her words hung in the air, weighted and deliberate.
Before Laura could answer, Georgia fixed her gaze on her, voice soft but unyielding: “Are you sure you’re not going to leave?”
