-Sloane Delgado:
I finished the last bite of the food Roxy had made, though "finished" hardly felt like the right word.
My stomach churned, half with hunger, half with the weight of everything that had happened—everything Roxy had forced me into.
I pushed the plate away, my hands trembling slightly, and stared down at the polished surface of the table.
How the hell am I supposed to sleep now? The thought had already begun to coil through my mind like a snake, tightening with each passing second.
-
Roxy, ever casual, leaned against the doorframe of her bedroom, arms crossed, her black-and-red hair falling over one shoulder. "I'll be staying here tonight," she said, almost teasingly, the words light but loaded.
My head snapped up. "You can't stay here! I need… I need my space!" The words came out sharper than I intended, jagged, desperate.
She shrugged, calm, composed, utterly infuriating. "I can't. This is my room. You're in it now, too. You're staying here with me."
