WREN'S POV
IN the morning, I heard the low snarls of Gray or Vhonn—whatever I should call him; I'm confused—as he was marching away. When I opened the door at the entrance, only then did I know that he was walking toward his car.
Anyway, I hurriedly moved because I might be late again. And then I was walking on the way to the highway; Brent seemed to be waiting for me because I saw him standing somewhere in the part of the road going to his home.
"Good morning, Wren," Brent greeted.
I just rewarded him a glance with my poker face. What's good in the morning? I walked past him. I knew he would walk at the same pace as I would, so why bother to walk with haste? He would still follow me, anyway.
After few minutes, we reached the highway. I was surprised when the four guys were there. Are
