(KRYSTAL'S POV)
Val rolls toward me in the wheelchair with this sad look on his face like as if I'm supposed to pretend nothing happened. Like I didn't get cornered and accused by two men who wouldn't even think twice before putting a bullet between my eyes.
So I cross my arms tight over my chest and stare at literally anything else that isn't his face. The floor, the walls, the people passing by. Even the stupid vending machine down the hallway looks more appealing than looking at him right now.
Val stretches his hand, trying to reach for me, but I move away instantly and mutter, "Don't touch me."
Val freezes, the hurt flashing across his face before he drags his hand back into his lap.
"Yeah," he says quietly, "you're still mad at me. And I deserve it."
I don't respond. I don't trust my voice not to betray me right now.
