One-half of Deux Lectrices, writing about the things I read.
Her pretty face hosted similar blooms of color along with violent-looking bruises, which smeared across her skin.
Griffin’s eyes narrowed. Not bruises—not anymore. The smears were from cosmetics, no doubt employed to keep Dalton from noticing that she had healed faster than she should.
Hey, genius, if you could notice the make up from across the room, no doubt Dalton's figured it out too.
Another bonus point for Finley Mary Sueism.