Angel’s POV

My eyes squinted from the light in the room, a killing headache banged in my head making my eyes water. My eyes sting with tears remembering how he assaulted me.

He hurt me because I refused to love him and that made him mad enough to wreath his wrath.

The door opens and a middle aged woman walks in dressed in white coat, her hands in her pockets and a stethoscope dangling on her neck. She wore short bob hair, and had a mole on the left side of her cheek, her face gaunt and serious.

She checked my pulse nodding and went on running a full analysis...