Charis
I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the angry faces of the parents at school, heard Marcus screaming my name, and felt the cameras recording my breakdown. The soft bed that usually felt so comfortable now felt like I was lying on rocks.
It wasn't supposed to affect me this much, after all, it was all an act, but it did.
Also, I kept expecting one of the boys to walk into my room at any moment and take advantage of the incident to console me, and at least sneak a kiss or two. Perhaps they were afraid of Isolde or something else.
After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, I finally gave up and got out of bed. Perhaps some warm milk would help me relax enough to fall asleep. I put on my robe and quietly opened my bedroom door.
The house was dark and silent. I was about to head downstairs when I heard voices coming from the kitchen—quiet voices, but not quite quiet enough.
