Florette's POV
I am currently pacing the middle of the hallway to Zavian's room. My arms folded across my chest and my finger on my chin. Jane and Heather are leaning against the wall, looking at me with careful eyes like they are waiting for me to do something crazy so they can stop me. The three of us have not spoken a word to each other for the past two hours. Mostly because I have been in my own head for those two hours, it could even be possible that they were calling my name and I did not hear to respond. That is how lost in my thoughts I have been.
I know I did not find anything that proves my suspicion of Zavian being medically ill, but I just cannot push it way. What were those white pills that looked like they were taken so often for them to remain so little?
How can someone
