All her life, Lola had never been treated like glass. Like something fragile to be handled with care. If anything, she'd lived as if the people around her only wanted to see her break.
But now, without her even knowing, everyone around her had begun to shape themselves into a kind of bubble wrap to soften her fall. Because they all knew, sooner or later, she would fall.
And when she did, they could only hope that this thin layer of protection would be enough to keep her from completely shattering.
*
*
*
Thanks to Lola's stubborn insistence, she didn't have to stay in the hospital for what she called "a scratch."
As soon as she jumped out of the car, she stopped.
"Baby?" she called, making two men—Atlas and Baby—turn toward her.
Seeing that she wasn't looking at him, Atlas frowned and followed her gaze. Baby had just stepped out of another car.
