DEBORAH'S POV
The door had barely closed behind Elijah when it swung open again. Victoria marched back in, her face flushed with anger and her perfectly styled hair slightly mussed from the encounter in the hallway.
"That man is a complete asshole," she spat, throwing her purse down on the visitor's chair. "The way he spoke to you was disgusting. Absolutely disgusting."
I pulled the hospital blanket higher around my shoulders and watched my cousin pace back and forth at the foot of my bed. Her cream-colored dress was wrinkled now, and her makeup had smudged slightly under her eyes.
"What kind of husband is he," she continued, her voice getting louder. "Men think they can treat women like garbage and get away with it. They think we're disposable. Well, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you being treated like you don't matter."
"Stop it," I said quietly.
Victoria turned to look at me, surprised. "What?"
"I said stop it. Stop talking about my husband like that."
