Chapter 21 (part 1)
~THE MANIPULATOR~ I’m stewing. Nana used to make this god-awful stew when I was young. It smelled like a dumpster fire and tasted even worse. My attitude is about as foul as that stew right now. "I don't even know his name," I groan, my voice muffled by my hands. They've been glued to my face ever since Daya got here, and I confessed he broke in again. I haven't gotten around to what happened yet. There's not an ounce of courage in my bones. She's been patiently waiting, knowing that I'm holding something back. Something terrible and shameful. And something I can't stop f*****g thinking about. "You f****d him, didn't you?" she asks calmly. My eyes bulge, and I unglue my hands from my face so I can pin her with a glare. "No, I did not f**k him," I snarl, as if she's suggesting someth
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