Chapter 14

Imogen's sentence was cut off abruptly because Spencer raised his head, and the look in his eyes was so cold it held no warmth at all. There was anger and disgust in his gaze. There was something she had never seen before—an almost violent restraint, pressed tight beneath the surface. "...Spencer?" Imogen's smile stiffened. A sudden unease crept into her chest. "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? I… I was doing this for your own good…" "For my own good?" Spencer's voice was hoarse, each word deliberate. "Who permitted you to touch her things? Who allowed you to throw them out!" He raised the filthy velvet box in his hand, his eyes locked on her. "These were hers! They are what she left behind… this was all that was left. Just this much!" His voice trembled as emotions started to spill out. "Who do you think you are, throwing them out like trash? Who gave you that right!" Imogen stumbled back a step from his yelling, and her face drained of any colour. But hurt and