Angelo
Never before have I faced such a challenge as living under the same roof as Rosalia.
The next day, I wake up with renewed determination to see her solely as my ward, my legal stepsister, my responsibility to safeguard and mentor. I push aside any notion that her peculiar behavior at dinner could have stemmed from catching me in the office yesterday—if she had, I tell myself firmly, she would have been repulsed and appalled, not flirtatious.
If indeed her awkward dinner conversation was an attempt at flirting.
Either way, it doesn’t matter. I remind myself of that through breakfast as Rosalia makes small talk about the literature classes that she could take at the college, wandering off afterward and saying that she has plans to go up to the library upstairs and look through the
