KAIA
There’s a countdown in my head.
It's not a soft, reasonable one. No. This one’s loud and obnoxious like a game show buzzer screaming you’re about to lose everything!
And me?
I’m sitting here with a plate of food Maddox made. The thing is—it’s actually delicious just like his other foods which is deeply annoying because I’d rather hate it for today and use that as fuel for my escape fantasy.
Instead, I’m scarfing it down like a starved raccoon while three pairs of eyes pin me in place.
I feel so hot. And not cute-girl-at-a-party hot, but I’m a mouse in a room full of cats who are debating which piece of me to eat first hot.
By the time I’m licking the last crumbs of pasta sauce off my fork, I want to crawl under the table and die. Instead, I grab my water, down it in one go, a
