"Why's your room smaller than everyone else's?" he asked, still facing the room.
I didn't reply, not knowing what to say. I didn't want to burden him with the details of my life.
Rattled by the deafening silence, he turned to face me. Concern clouded his once-vibrant blue eyes. "Is that how your aunt treats you?"
I stiffened, my eyes widening in surprise. "How did you..."
"I told you," he interjected, "Andy did his research on you." He turned back and stepped into the room.
So cliche. I almost scoffed at him, but the uneasy feeling persisted. Dennis knew the grim truth about my life. I gripped my head, trying to steady my breath before following him inside.
My bed was adorned with soft pillows and a plush comforter and occupied the center of the room.
A small desk with a worn-out
