Kayla Santino.

Fuck. I pull on my hair in frustration and groan.

This person must be in this house. There is no way my grandpa came from Italy with that note in the cookies.

This must be someone from this house, and I will find out who.

Starting with planting secret cameras in my room.

They will regret messing with me, no matter what their reasons are.

I toss the cookies away because I can't eat them anymore.

Who knows, maybe they got them poisoned.

I furiously march out of my room to ...