Chapter 13
The English Lit lecture felt like a fever dream. The teacher was droning on about "the tragedy of the unspoken" in some old play, but my mind was miles away, stuck in the kitchen at 2:00 AM. I kept seeing the way the light hit that small, dome camera on the ceiling—the way it whirred and rotated to follow us.
The immediate, heart-stopping terror of the car chase and the drone from yesterday had started to settle into a dull, heavy ache. I was still cautious, flinching every time a car followed us too closely on the way to school, but the walls of the mansion felt thicker now. Marcus had made it clear that we were "protected," even if that protection felt more like a prison sentence. The threat from the outside was still there, lurking in the back of my mind, but the threat fr
