Charlotte
She focused on a point of the wall, hoping she would wake from this confusing dream or suddenly find some moment of clarity. Was she not just dancing at the formal with Brady outside?
No. She must have dreamt it. Because she was lying in her bed. At least, she thought it was. It was hers. The yellow stick notes on the nightstand from Brady were assuring her that it was her bed and that she was just suffering from a case of amnesia.
Goddess, what happened to her?
“I’ve been talking to another man behind Darrin’s back,” Rose admitted to her. She was in the bed beside her, eating popcorn.
Making a mess in the sheets.
Darrin didn’t like food in bed. He’d probably complain later.
Wait, no. Brady. Did Brady get angry at crumbs on the sheets? She could onl
