A R I A
I find myself back home and practically storm into the house, my pulse still hammering from the absolute humiliation I just endured. Soren had the audacity to track my location, show up unannounced, and then act like some overbearing boyfriend when he’s the one who vanished for nearly eighteen hours without a single text.
The door slams shut behind me, rattling the walls, and the three people lounging in the living room immediately turn to look at me. Oliver is sprawled across the couch, flipping through channels on the TV. Gabi sits cross-legged on the floor, her brows knitting together with concern. And Angela is cuddled then to Marc, both their attention shifting to me as I barge into the room. Angela's arms immediately fold, her eyebrow-raising, clearly unimpressed.
Marc is
