Zerina's Point Of View

All the way home, Lysander didn’t say a word. He drove the car with his eyes fixed straight ahead, his grip tight on the steering wheel. The air around him felt heavy and suffocating, and I didn’t need anyone to tell me that he was not in a good mood.

I wanted to explain what had happened. I really did. But every time I parted my lips, the words refused to come out. My throat felt tight, my heart pounding too loudly in my chest. I was nervous—terrified, even. ...