ADINNA’S POV
The day drags on slowly, sunlight shifting across the walls like lazy paint strokes. My body still aches, but it’s bearable now. I’ve managed to sit up without feeling like the room is tilting. Riley keeps fussing around me, adjusting pillows, checking the temperature, muttering under her breath about “idiots who think torment is a sport.”
Then there’s a knock. Not sharp, not hesitant. Just… casual.
Before I can even respond, the door swings open, and Dean strolls in like he owns the place.
“Missed me?” he asks, carrying a bag this time instead of a tray.
Riley stiffens beside me. “You can’t just walk into girls’ dorms whenever you feel like it.”
“Technically,” Dean says, setting the bag on the desk, “I can. I’m Dean.”
I groan. “That’s not how rules work.”
“Rules,” he
