LEVITA
The ride home was dead silent, and with my family that was never a good thing.
It meant that something deadly was lurking closeby.
My mother hadn’t said a word since we left the werewolf games, but she’s been texting on her phone while her stilletto nails clicked against her phone screen like gunshots.
I could tell that she was fuming inwardly.
Beside me, Wendy was on i********: Live as usual, whisper-laughing into the camera and flipping her hair and having the time of her life. It was nauseating.
As for me, I sat still, with my hands tightly placed in my lap and my jaw clenched so hard that it hurt. I just knew that something damning was brewing and I wasn’t eager to find out what it was.
When we pulled into the driveway, I didn’t wait for the driver to open the door.
