Rose’s Point of View
I stared at my alarm, its ticking the only sound breaking the silence. I was waiting for the blaring signal that it was time to get up, though sleep had eluded me all morning. Yesterday’s events were tangled in my mind, sharp and distracting. Samuel’s fight kept surfacing, bringing an odd mixture of pride and discomfort. He had seemed distant in the arena, his gaze constantly shifting, as if he were looking for someone in the crowd.
After that final blow landed and the crowd erupted in applause, Samuel raised his fist in triumph, his eyes locking onto mine. His hazel gaze held something intense, a kind of longing mixed with satisfaction, that made my skin prickle. It was as though he’d found what he was looking for—and somehow, I was part of it. The way he looked at
