FLYNN P.O.V.
I storm out of the hospital, my frustration hitting maximum level. It’s maddening. The reality of it lingers like a shadow, and sensing her uncertainty only fuels my desperation. She’s almost eighteen, I keep reminding myself that it must just be the age.
I go to my apartment. I hop on my phone searching for places that might impress her. A cozy café? An adventurous hike? I wish she would share more about herself. Each thing I scour online only feels like jumbled information leading me in circles. What if she doesn’t like the outdoors? What if a simple candlelit dinner sends her packing?
I get up and head for the slave quarters. I get into my SUV. The quarters are kept an almost thirty minute drive. I'm hoping that maybe there might be some clues into her personal life.
As
