Cheryl
“Are you crying?” Chris’s concerned voice cut through the quiet.
“No,” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Then why are you out here? It’s freezing,” he said, draping his jacket over my shoulders.
“I like being cold,” I replied, though I secretly appreciated the gesture.
“Is it Mr. Han?” Chris asked softly.
I sighed, frustration bubbling to the surface. “He hates me.”
“What happened? I noticed you two haven’t been... close lately,” he pressed, his brows knitting together.
I hesitated, guilt twisting in my chest. “You know what happened to me, right?” I asked, needing to start at the beginning so he wouldn’t judge me too harshly.
Chris nodded, shivering slightly. “Yeah.”
I took a deep breath. “Mr. Han and I promised not to touch each other, ever. But when I’m close
