away, but then I dropped my eyes to her back, seeing the bruises and scrapes. How did she paint her back? Did her brother help her? I doubted it. Squatting down, I leaned in closer, studying the marks on her arm and back with the little moonlight streaming in through the sheer curtains. Licking my thumb, I rubbed at the dark purple one with red around it, but . . . The makeup didn’t rub off.
