Sallie's POV
Webster's fingers dug into my arm like a vise, his face ghostly white and eyes swimming with unshed tears. The pitiful display left me cold.
If anything, his dramatics only made me more suspicious. I yanked against his grip, but he held on like his life depended on it.
Forced to retreat a few steps, I fixed him with a wary stare. "What do you want, Mr. Noah?"
I'd learned to read the warning signs. Webster only put on this act when he was about to drop some bombshell.
He seemed oblivious to the revulsion written across my face. His fingers tightened around mine as guilt and anguish twisted his features. "Sallie, I'm so sorry. I had no clue what you endured, and I've been completely wrong about you this whole time."
Those tears threatening to spill made my heart skip—had he somehow discovered what happened at St. Chaim Reform Academy? My hands curled into fists. "You found out?"
