Violet seemed . . . okay at the end of the day.
I’d worried a lot about her, made sure to ask if anybody had given her any problems at all but she really did seem . . . fine. It was Phil who seemed almost withdrawn, quiet. Before dinner, he’d been missing from my room for a while and, curious, I’d wandered downstairs to have my mother tell me he’d run back to his house quick. She’d thought I’d gone with him, actually. He left a textbook he needed bac at his house. “Said he’d be right back,” was what she’d said.
Weird.
He hadn’t texted me anything.
Didn’t say a word.
Kicking on my shoes, I headed over to his place, seeking him out, only to see Harrison step out of his house, jogging down the front steps with this smug look on his face.
Harrison.
I bli
