Hazel's face went rigid. Something flickered in her eyes—pain, maybe, or anger, or both. Her hand tightened around her glass, and for a moment, he thought she might stand up and walk out.
"If you don't want to answer, it's okay," Dominique said quickly. "I didn't mean to—"
Hazel shook her head, cutting him off. She took a breath, then another, and when she spoke, her voice was low.
"I have," she said. "I contacted the best doctors. World-renowned surgeons. People who fix faces for a living."
Dom waited.
