Ayla’s POV
I pulled out my phone as soon as I found my seat, typing quickly: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you controlling. I know you're just worried about me."
I hit send and watched the message show as delivered. Then read.
But no reply came.
I stared at the screen, willing those three little dots to appear. Nothing.
The bus rumbled down the highway, and I kept checking my phone every few minutes. Still nothing. Arkon had read my message but chose not to respond, and that hurt more than I expected.
The guy from earlier tried to make conversation a few times, but I wasn't in the mood. I gave him short nods and shrugs until he finally got the hint and pulled out his own phone.
I leaned my head against the window, watching the city fade into countryside. The exhaustion from the
