ELEVEN
BLAKELY
M
ONDAY AFTERNOON, I enter the apartment and walk into my bedroom. It’s been a long day. I’m exhausted and want nothing more than to lie down in bed and go to sleep. I didn’t sleep all weekend. Instead, I lay in bed thinking over what Ryat said to me in the library Friday night.
He’s right about several things. But he was wrong about me only wanting to be his because of Matt. I’ve let him dictate my life for too long. For what? A pretend relationship? The thought of being Ryat’s chosen is only that—being his.
Removing the hoodie, I go to toss it onto the bed but pause when I spot a small black box already sitting on it.
“Sarah?” I call out. As far as I know, she’s still in class.
That wasn’t there when I left this morning. Walking over to it, I open it up to see a not
