#Chapter 74 Al Dente

After an expensive night at the hospital, I went home late with my hand in a cast and a bottle full of pain meds. Rest was nearly impossible as I couldn’t get comfortable, and work the next day was miserable. Beyond saying that I got it in my self-defense class, I refused to explain to any of my colleagues, even Terri, how I broke my hand, no matter how much they pestered me—and pester me they did. I was relieved to be home when the workday ended. The pain in my hand was unbearable, even with the painkillers. I just hoped that my werewolf genes would kick in soon and accelerate my healing process. I had settled on the couch and started watching videos on my phone when I received a video chat request from Andrew. Mentally, I groaned. I couldn’t imagine how Lisa might have twisted things to her advantage. “Hello?” I answered. “Hello, Crystal,” Andrew replied. “How are you?” I waved my broken hand in front of the camera