Chapter 233: I Figured Food would Help

Hudson steers me by the arm to our left and opens the door to a brightly lit restaurant. I hadn't even realized we left the police station, and it's not until the smells of baking bread and marinara sauce invade my senses I realize we're in a pizzeria.

"What are we doing here?" I ask, my throat scratchy and the words soft.

He doesn't answer me, but walks right up to the counter and orders two slices to go.

I don't catch what he orders, but I'm in no mood to eat so it doesn't matter. "Hudson, what are you doing?"

His eyes roll over my body with sadness in them. It only makes me worse. "You look upset. I figured food would help."

He thinks a slice of pizza can help? Hudson's never been further from the truth. Nothing will help me now.

I watch the pizzeria worker take two slices of pizza and put them in the oven to heat up. It's easier to watch her than look at Hudson. I'm scared he can see through my lies.