The next morning, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door, waiting.
I knew she would come. She always did.
And sure enough, just a few minutes later, the door opened, and Hailey walked in, carrying the tray like she did every day.
Her expression was the same as always—neutral, slightly bored, like she had better things to do than serve me. But I knew better now.
I let her set the tray down before speaking. "How does it feel?"
Hailey paused, then looked at me with a frown. "What?"
I leaned back against the headboard, tilting my head slightly. "Being Theo’s loyal little lapdog. Does it feel good?"
Her frown deepened, but I saw the flicker of something in her eyes—guilt? Annoyance?
"Watch your mouth," she muttered, straightening up.
I let out a short laugh. "Or what? You’ll
