Back in the car, Miranda was still fuming. Seeing Mila engrossed in her phone, she assumed Mila was upset and instinctively wrapped her in a tight hug.
"Mila, it's going to be alright. Things will get better," Miranda consoled.
Mila, caught off-guard by the embrace, felt a mix of gratitude and amusement. However, the pressure on her shoulder made her wince in pain.
"What's wrong?" Miranda asked, startled. She hadn't seen Mila cry since her wedding, and it alarmed her.
Mila frowned, "It's nothing, just my shoulder."
Miranda paused, suddenly recalling that Leonard's outstretched arm had hit Mila's shoulder blade earlier.
With the warmth of the car's heater, Miranda didn't hesitate to pull down Mila's collar. Her eyes watered at the sight.
Mila's shoulder blade was a patchwork of bruises, purple and blue against her fair skin. Leonard had always been strong, and in trying to stop Mila earlier, he'd used too much force, leaving her injured.
"Those bastards! They treat people like dirt!" Miranda seethed with anger, tears streaming down her face before Mila even reacted.
"It's okay, it'll heal with some ointment," Mila reassured her. But seeing the persistent worry on Miranda's face, she pulled out her phone and waved it at her friend.
"Take a look at this."
Miranda, wiping her tears, glanced at the screen and her eyes lit up with surprise and joy. "Weren't these photos deleted?"
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