The Scapegoat Fiancée: I Am No Substitute

aceful; it was heavy, suffocating, like the

und book in my lap. I had salvaged it from the pile of "trash" my aunt had ordered the maids

th a handkerchief. His movements were slow, deliberate, and radiating frustratio

ngers twisting the pearls at her throat.

more like a judge. "Mrs. Salinas, I have run every conceivable test. EKG, blood

emed to sto

his face slack. "But she's.

ough the air like a scalpel. "Her heart is strong. Her blo

, shaking her head in frantic denial. "

to reject. She is perfectly healthy," the doctor snappe

front door clicked shut, the sound echo

et sofa, her face ashen. "H

not,"

y silent. I stood up, my legs trembling, and walked to the marble coff

arco asked, eyein

I said, my voice hard

, looking away. "Burn it. I don'

ill li

ecorum of the room. They both froze, staring at me in shock. I

ge I had dog-eared. The han

three years ago

a rush. They drilled into my hip. It hurt worse than the beatings in the yard. But it's for Dante. They said

's face had turned a

ror of it making me nauseous. "You lied to her. You u

g on the moral high ground that didn't exist. "Chiara needed a mat

cold and precise. "She learned Spanish inside. She understood

a covered her mouth

e left. She didn't run away in a childish

oward the master suite where

all when the Don