Ana's POV
Allison's shove sent me stumbling backward, the impact shooting fresh agony through my injured foot. Pain blazed up my leg, threatening to drop me straight to the floor.
My fingers found the nearby chair just in time to catch myself.
I had no energy left for Allison's petty attacks.
These days, she pounced on every opportunity to come after me. First, she'd branded me a curse, claiming I'd brought the misfortune that landed Preston in his sickbed.
Ever since, she'd made harassing me her personal mission—barring me from the elevators, confining me to certain areas of the house, and pointing her finger at me first whenever something went missing.
I refused to waste what little strength I had left on someone so beneath my notice.
Once I'd steadied myself, I moved around to Preston's other side.
