“Oh, good you’re up, and you’re still wearing your nightgown,” Lara said, the next morning when she entered my room, with a huge smile on her face. “Did you just get up?” She asked, giving me a disapproving once over.
“No, I’ve been up for hours,” I said as I pulled out my bag in search of something to wear that day, with my head still in a fog and I was sure I had bags under my eyes from lack of sleep and crying.
“I’m sorry to hear that, well breakfast is in 20. Go take a shower and get dressed, my mother hates it when we’re late,” she warned, before walking out the door. I slowly nodded my head, then picked out a pair of fitted jeans and a cute top. It wasn’t like I had plans to go anywhere. Hell, for all I knew, I would probably end up locked in a cellar or basement for the remainder
