Dante’s POV
Her friend was right.
We’d spent the last week walking on eggshells around Raven, hoping our regret would undo the past, praying our careful kindness would somehow erase what we’d done. But none of it mattered, not the new room, the gifts, the hovering concern because Raven didn’t want our guilt
She didn’t even want our apologies. She wanted space and we were the last people qualified to give it to her.
Yet here I was, standing at her door, still trying.
“What now?” she asked, arms folded over her oversized hoodie, her bare legs peeking from beneath.
“Get your phone,” I said.
Her brow arched. “Why?”
“We’re going shopping.” I told her and folded my arms.
“For what?”
“The Blood Moon Ball and other events to take place.”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes so hard I thought
