Emmalee
Romain takes my hand, his grip firm yet urgent, and leads me to his room. Without a word, he begins packing as soon as we get there, his movements quick and deliberate, as though time itself is chasing him.
I don't have to pack because I brought a bag with some belongings and all the money I have two days ago. It's under his bed right now. I watch him move around the room efficiently, a crease between his brows.
My own heart is still beating fast, but I’m more hopeful this time around. Since he’s packing, I don’t think he’ll turn back on his word like he did earlier. I almost hate Trudy for whatever it is she told him.
“What time do we leave?” I ask.
“Right after everyone goes to bed,” he claims. “You’re sure you don’t want to head upstairs just so Trudy won’t be suspicious
