SOMA
Brynne’s eyes sharpen as soon a they land on me. “You.”
Seconds pass as he stares down at the stain, then back up at me. His jaw clenches, but instead of shouting or kicking me out like I expected, he smirks.
Wait, does he not recognize me?
“It’s you. Somi,” he says. His voice sharpens with amusement, and I shrink into myself. I’ll rather be slapped by Aunt Helen any day than face this brute again. “Very well.”
The smirk grows as his eyes flick over my face, lingering long enough to make my skin crawl. Heat rushes to my cheeks, not only from embarrassment, but from the eyes on us. Curious stares and whispered comments echo around us. I need to leave before he thinks of continuing yesterday’s punishment.
Before I can think of running off, a sharp but awfully familiar voice thu
