Zerina's point of view

Time moved in the slowest, cruelest way it always did when you were anticipating something or someone.

I sat cross-legged on the floor of my room, directly in front of the TV, staring at the blank screen like it might magically turn on by itself if I glared enough. Everything was already set up. The blankets were spread neatly across the floor—the softest one I could find, the ones that smelled of clean laundry and comfort too. I had stacked the pillows ...