Love's a fool's game 2

DEBORAH'S POV

The zipper of my suitcase rasped as I yanked it open, the sound harsh in the quiet of my bedroom. My hands trembled as I grabbed fistfuls of clothing from my dresser, barely registering what I was packing. A sob caught in my throat as I tossed a favorite sweater into the case, its soft blue wool now blurred by my tears.

Father stood by the door, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the hardwood floor. His voice was low, steady, as if we were discussing something as mundane as the weather. "I've arranged for you to stay at the Benson Hotel downtown. Just for a few days, until we can sort this... situation out."

I nodded mutely, not trusting myself to speak. My fingers fumbled with the clasp of my jewelry box, scattering a handful of delicate chains across the dresser top.