I stared – no glowered – at the empty spot in the bed across from mine. She should have been there, back to me. She should have been back hours ago. Just so I could stare daggers in the back of her golden head.
The blazing red number of the alarm clocked hovered at the edge of my unmoving vision.
It read 2:30 am.
Where the hell was she at this hour? Surely, she wasn’t still down at dinner. No, she wouldn’t be. Eloise and father had come back hours ago. I’d watched the light from their room wink out when they’d shut the door just after midnight.
Maybe she was too scared to come back.
It had taken everything in me not to go down and scream at her, pull out her hair and scratch up her pretty alabaster skin. Or march up to my father and tell him what happened like the worst snitch. T
