It was about half-past midnight and just over twelve hours since the disaster unraveled at the Dickly castle. Very rarely do we hear of the woman being in the doghouse, but in this situation, Amber couldn"t help but feel at fault. And she wasn"t even going to try slipping in her own bed with Michael. Tonight, she opted to sleep in Trista"s bedroom; awakening every forty-five minutes or so in such worry and apprehension. Surely her days—her hours—were numbered at the Dickly castle.
While lying on her side with eyes closed, Amber could hear the bedroom door carefully open and Michael enter. “Amber, are you sleeping?”
Amber immediately turned over to face him, “Not really…”
“Amber, why don"t you come to bed? There"s no reason for you to sleep in here. I"m still very angry and not sure how
