Mily slammed her door and breathed in rapid, angry gusts. Her hands trembled as she prowled the room, her mind replaying the moment Lily spilled the drink.
She knew it. Lily did it on purpose.
It was not an accident. It was not clumsiness, it was suspicion.
Mily had recognized it in her eyes, the hesitation, the glance at her before spilling the glass.
She's figured it out.
Indignation twisted Mily's stomach. She had been so careful, so patient. Lily had finally started to trust her, finally let her guard down. Everything was fine.
And now, all of that had gone to waste in a flash because of Lily's ridiculous intuition.
She flung herself onto the bed, hugging the pillow and crushing it so tight her knuckles turned white.
No. No, I won't let this shake me. I won't let her get the better of me.
If Lily was cautious now, then Mily needed to be wiser. Wiser. She needed to make sure that next time there was no doubt in Lily's mind that she was in safe hands with her.
