He’s frozen like a statue, almost reminding me of my dad earlier in the day, but the big difference is, that Cyrus doesn’t look like a living corpse. He watches me in the dim light for a few long moments, already making me think that I’ll have to start forcing words out of his mouth.
But in the next second, he lets out a long breath and looks away. “Is he too embarrassed to tell you himself?” he murmurs, and I blink in surprise. Okay, seriously, this two need to sort things out. Each of them tells me that the other one is guilty. Or something like that.
“Okay, I really don’t know what to say here, because you two both make it sound like it’s the other one’s fault that you don’t get along. So, who’s really guilty here?” I ask, lifting myself up on my elbows.
Cyrus looks at me, watching m
