Diana’s POV
The moment Kelvin stopped the car, I practically flung the door open, lunging out like a startled deer sensing the arrow aimed straight for its heart. The hot afternoon air hit me like a slap, sharp and urgent.
“Diana, wait…” his voice trailed behind me, calm but desperate.
But I didn’t stop. I was already slipping through the heavy front door, swallowed by shadows.
My heart was pounding, not just from the thrill of sneaking into a house I barely understood, but from the prickling fear of being caught by his father again.
The memory of last time, humiliated, desperate, scrambling through a window, burned fresh in my mind. I refused a repeat.
I had to find Kelvin’s room. Simple. Or so I thought.
The house was bigger than I remembered, corridors stretching endlessly like v
