Gianna.
Warm light spilled through the curtains, sliding across my face. I groaned and turned, pulling the covers over my head. But the sunlight was relentless.
“I can’t believe you’re still sleeping, Gia! Get up!”
My mum’s voice sliced through my half-dreaming haze. I blinked, rubbing my eyes, and squinted up just in time to see her tug the curtains open wider. The entire room flooded with golden morning light.
Two days had passed since the attack. Since… him.
Ivan hadn’t shown up once. No calls. No texts. No sign of his stupid, perfect, infuriating face.
Was this how it was going to be between us now? Avoidance? Silence?
Fine. It was better this way.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
Why should I even care? I thought, pushing myself upright, fingers brushing the spot
