Cheryl
Today was a free day for me—thank God. No school meant no Professor Alex, and that alone was a relief. But even though I didn’t have to sit through lectures, I still had to go to the hospital for my last shot.
I hated injections. They made me cry. They made my gut hurt.
The weight of last night’s conversation with Mr. Han settled heavy in my chest the moment I saw him sitting at the head of the dining table, looking as put together as ever, as if he hadn’t said what he did.
“Good morning,” he greeted, voice smooth and unreadable.
I rolled my eyes, not in the mood to deal with him.
“Morning,” I mumbled, sighing into my breakfast.
“Chris, we’ll be leaving early for my doctor’s—”
“Mr. Han wants to take you,” Chris interrupted.
I turned sharply to look at Mr. Han. He was drink
