My phone suddenly vibrates. It’s a text.
‘Your account has been credited with…’
A chat notification pops up.
Layla: {Down for a video call tonight, Little Miss Alexander McThorne? You’ve been telling me nothing these days.}
Ignoring my best friend’s message, I open the text.
“Two hundred and fifty…” I pause, covering my mouth, staring at the zeros in shock.
What?!
My eyes widen.
A chat message pops up.
Alexander T: {Your dad said you’ve been taking ‘responsibility’. You have me for that. See you tomorrow.}
I keep staring, speechless.
Warmth caresses my face, followed by something colder.
Why?
I open his chat, ready to type.
“Sophia?” Someone calls.
Raising my head, I stare at where the Pilates girls are all gathered.
“A package got delivered for you.”
“A package?” I murmu
